


The Ginger Wolf and the Copper Dragon

by LAStoryWriterAlex



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jon and Ygritte had a daughter, Jonerys, R Plus L Equals J, Rhaego lived, The timeline is completely fucked for my purposes but whatever I don't care, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Try not to get hung up on the logistics, extra fluffy, jonerys central, single parents Jon and Dany, this is just for fun, with a pinch of boatsex to spice things up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-06 12:23:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15194723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LAStoryWriterAlex/pseuds/LAStoryWriterAlex
Summary: Shortly after his election as the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow is visited by a wildling woman with news that will change his world forever.





	1. Kissed By Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Love Comes From The Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889517) by [allegre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegre/pseuds/allegre). 
  * Inspired by [light of mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682189) by [reddoorandlemontree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddoorandlemontree/pseuds/reddoorandlemontree). 



_A/N: Okay guys there is a ridiculous story behind this fic and it starts with_[THIS](https://reddoorandlemontree.tumblr.com/post/173971042773/light-of-mine-jon-snow-had-fathered-a-daughter) _post by_[reddoorandlemontree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddoorandlemontree/pseuds/reddoorandlemontree) _. When I originally saw the Tumblr post, for some reason I didn't see the link to the_[FIC](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682189/chapters/33922524) _and only thought the post was a moodboard. Lots of moodboards on Tumblr are for AUs that aren't written so that's what I thought it was (I blame getting distracted by the pretty moodboard!). Anyway, I reblogged and tagged_[Allegre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegre/pseuds/allegre) _saying someone should do a fic of Daddy Jon combined with her_[FIC](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889517) _where Rhaego lives. Well...I got impatient and the idea wouldn't leave me alone and it pestered me enough to put fingers to keys and actually write it. Only recently did I come to realize reddoorandlemontree had actually already started the fic with Jon having a daughter! Seriously, still can't believe I missed that. And I was already like 75% done with this one so I couldn't not finish it. WEIRDER STILL, without having read the other fic, I too named Jon's daughter Aryanna (Arya + Lyanna) same spelling and all! Kind of still amazed at the_ _coincidence. Like how strange is that?? Both fics mentioned above I highly highly recommend! Please go read them if you haven't already! H_ _ere is mine. The entire fic is written but I'll release it in parts cuz it's hella long. If you like it, you know what to do!_

 [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/49702299@N02/42530020624/in/dateposted-public/)

Jon sat at his new desk in his new office - new office in honor of his election as the 998th Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. When Sam had thrown Jon’s name into the election, Jon had not expected to win and somewhat resented Sam for doing so. He just knew that when Thorne was named Lord Commander, he’d make Jon pay for his going up against him in some way. But to Jon’s surprise, Maester Aemon cast the deciding vote, putting all his trust in Jon, giving him all the responsibility of The Wall, putting so many people’s fates in Jon’s hands.

It was a hollow victory of course. As he sat at his desk, eyes and mind refusing to close so he might get some rest, he touched his fingers as close to the candle in front of him as he dared without burning himself. _Kissed by fire._ Unbidden, Jon’s eyes prickled with tears and his throat tightened, thinking of Ygritte. _We should have never left that cave._

When a knock came at the door, Jon sniffed and blinked the tears out of his eyes and cleared his throat, hoping he looked like a Lord Commander instead of the heartbroken green boy he still often felt he was.

“What is it Olly?” he asked, voice gruff. Olly’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung open but no words came. He simply pointed down the hallway where Jon heard several shuffling feet. _Gods,_ he did not need this right now. It must have been close to midnight. What did they all want?

“Jon.” It was Sam who spoke and Jon stood just as his closest friend made his way into Jon’s office. The concerned look on Sam’s face wiped all irritation from Jon and filled worry in its place. _What is going on?_ “There’s something you need to see.”

But as Jon reached for Longclaw, Sam shook his head and he and Olly moved aside as yet another person entered the office. Jon didn’t recognize the woman but knew immediately she was a wildling. Hardened face, unkempt hair, and white fur coat giving her away. She was also carrying a baby. Six, seven months by the looks of it. He wondered if she was seeking refuge.

“How can I help you, my lady?” Jon asked, wanting her to know he didn’t see her as a threat if she wouldn’t behave as such.

“Not me who needs help Lord Crow,” the woman said stubbornly. “It’s you.” Jon bristled at the insult, growing irritated again.

“And what would I be needing help with?” Jon asked, voice clipped.

“To take care o’ her,” the woman indicated the babe in her arms and Jon frowned. If this woman didn’t tell him what in seven hells was going on…

“And who is she?” he asked. Instead of answering the woman cackled and before he could move, she shoved the child into his unpracticed arms. On instinct, Jon looked down at the babe he held and immediately took in her brilliant, curly red hair and charcoal grey eyes…

The wildling woman snorted with laughter and Jon’s gaze shot up to Sam, panicstricken. But all Sam could do was nod. _No._ It couldn’t be. True, last he had seen Ygritte was months before Mance attacked the Wall but still, she should have at least been big enough to notice. She would have told him…wouldn’t she?

“Thought you could wipe your hands free of us, eh Lord Crow?” the wildling woman taunted. “Not no more you can’t. You’re a part o’ us same as we’re a part o’ you now.” With that the woman marched back out of Jon’s office and went cackling back through the hallway. Olly mumbled something to Sam, Sam nodded, and Olly left the room just as quickly, closing the door behind him.

Jon looked back down again at the red-headed baby girl in his arms. _My daughter,_ Jon thought for the first time. And the tears he had been holding in upon Olly’s arrival came back in full force.

 

“You don’t name ‘em until they’ve had two namedays,” Tormund told him one day as Jon went to check on him in the dungeons of Castle Black.

“But why though?” Jon insisted, not at all understanding the wildling custom.

“Bad luck to name a child before it’s grown some. Look at all we’ve got comin’ for us. You know what’s out there, same as me. Not likely many of us will survive the next two years,” he grumbled. “Besides, you just met her. How can you know her well enough to give her a name she’ll have the rest o’ her life. Got to give it time.” _That_ was an interesting thought. “Besides,” Tormund added. “It’s what _she_ would have wanted.” _Ygritte._

“Tormund,” Jon called, stopping as he turned to leave. “Did you know?” Though Tormund was in chains and Jon wore the title of _Lord Commander_ , still, a part of him thought of the wildling as a friend.

“No lad, I didn’t. Not until you left, at least. It happened the night we attacked Mole’s Town. We left after. She stayed. One of the only nights she was gonna get under a real roof. Couldn’ta been better timing. When she came back to find us, flat belly and all alone…well, she didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask.” That sounded like Ygritte.      

 

True to free folk tradition, Jon hadn’t named his daughter, though she had been at The Wall several months and was now past her first name day. But even with his title of Lord Commander, he wondered just how much longer he could keep her safe. Currently she was snuggling in his arms and gnawing on his finger with her three little teeth and gums. He rocked her by the fire, trying to lull her to sleep so he could set her in the crib beside his bed, his sleeping quarters just off his office and solar.

“You shouldn’t let her sleep in the same room with you,” Stannis told him, sat at Jon's desk as if it were his own. “She’ll grow up weak, a dependent little thing who won’t be able to fend for herself.”

“If your daughter were her age, would you allow her to sleep elsewhere in a castle full of murderers and rapers?” Jon clipped, brushing little red curls back from his daughter’s forehead. She gave a faint smile and he couldn’t resist leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead. She had to be the most beautiful baby he had ever seen.

“Once I take the Iron Throne, the Night’s Watch will be returned to its former glory,” Stannis retorted, shifting through papers. “Though I take it your answer is still _no_ in helping me get Winterfell back from the Boltons.”

“Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa,” Jon told him, bouncing his girl in his arms. She liked when he did that and gave a tiny, heartbreaking yawn. Everything she did, every noise she made, broke his heart just a little in a completely wonderful way, but terrible too; Jon couldn’t quite explain it.

“Are you so quick to see your childhood home in the hands of the dwarf?” Jon rolled his eyes and refocused on his daughter, trying to picture the name he might give her in less than a year’s time. “I received a raven from an anonymous source in the Riverlands,” Stannis began, piquing Jon’s interest somewhat. “It seems your brother Robb, believing Bran and Rickon Stark dead, with your sister Arya missing and your sister Sansa wed to a Lannister, named you his heir.” Jon whipped his head around, the quick movement disturbing his daughter, making her fuss. He quickly began bouncing her again the way Gilly had taught him, his mouth hanging wide in disbelief.

“Robb named me…his _heir?”_ Jon sputtered.

“Seeing as the Northern Lords don’t recognize a King in the North anymore and have more or less accepted the Boltons as Wardens, it seems you’re not currently heir to anything. But when I take back Winterfell, I’ll honor your brother’s will and legitimize you as Jon Stark. According to the wildlings, your relationship with your daughter’s mother was as close to a marriage as wildlings get, as per their customs, so she’ll be a Stark as well.” Jon looked down at his little red-haired wolf pup. _A Stark,_ he thought. _She’d be a Stark._ Giving his daughter a true name was just about the only thing Jon cared about. _And now was the chance._

“My place is at the Wall,” Jon said reluctantly, wanting to roll his eyes again at Stannis’s clear disappointment. “But her’s isn’t.” He nodded to his daughter. At this, King Stannis seemed a bit surprised and maybe slightly impressed.

“Ned Stark’s granddaughter isn’t as good a reason to fight as his _son_ but it’s something. Once I retake Winterfell, I’ll send for her. I’ll name Ser Davos castellan until your girl comes of age. Your daughter will be the first Wardeness of the North, Jon Snow. That means something.” _Wardeness of the North._ The words sent a chill down Jon’s back. It was everything he ever could have hoped for for his child.

“Legitimize her before you leave,” Jon said suddenly as Stannis rose from his desk to finally leave Jon in peace.

“Why would you want me to do that?” Stannis asked suspiciously.

“Because if you fail, when she’s old enough, she can carry on and take back our family’s home herself.” Stannis scoffed.

“I won’t fail Jon Snow. But if you so insist, I’ll leave a scroll for you with my seal on it.” At the King’s words, Jon’s heart felt unbearably light. His little wolf would have something, _be_ someone.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Jon said, holding out his hand for a firm shake.

“I’ll leave the scroll here with you in the morning and in two weeks time you should receive another, my summons to come to Winterfell.”

Though Jon had his doubts, it was his daughter’s future Stannis was speaking of so he nodded in hope. “Two week’s time.”

 

In two week’s time, Jon was glad he had insisted with Queen Selyse that Shireen remain at Castle Black, the sole true heir to the Iron Throne should Stannis fall in battle. The red woman hadn’t wanted it, had wanted Shireen to come along. But Jon knew better. Camp wasn’t a place for a child. And he shuddered to think of what would become the girl should her father and the red woman grow desperate enough.

For her part, Lady Melisandre looked utterly forlorn when she returned to Castle Black to deliver the news. She believed King Stannis to be this _Prince That Was Promised,_ whatever that meant. But Shireen lived, and Ser Davos too. And they, Gilly, and Samwell were whom Jon entrusted with the care of his daughter when he went with Tormund to Hardhome.

It was the most horrific thing Jon had ever seen and it only solidified the decision that had been brewing in him for the last several months. Maester Aemon was gone. Shireen, Gilly and little Sam, and his daughter were no longer safe at the Wall. If the Wall fell, they’d no longer be safe anywhere, but Jon prefered the idea of them south anyway. As far south as they could get. If he sent them all to Oldtown, perhaps with Ser Davos, they would be safe. Jon hated the idea of parting with his little ginger wolf and she hated it even more. _“No papa!”_ she told him with the very few words she had in her vocabulary at the moment, the night he finally confided in her and told her of his plan. _“Stay,”_ she cried in his arms when he said there was no other way. _“Stay, stay!”_ Jon had thought the most heartbreaking thing he’d ever go through was when Ygritte had died in his arms. This… _this_ was much worse.

 

But Jon would never get to set his plan into motion…because several of his brothers of the Night’s Watch had plans of their own.

Jon’s knees hit the cold hard ground, try as he willed them not to. He couldn’t fall, he couldn’t go down. He had to fight this. Despite the blood flowing freely out of him, despite the pain, the cold, the numbness, spreading throughout his entire body. He had to get up. He had to live. For her.

Olly sunk the last knife right into his heart. _The pointy end,_ Jon’s frazzled, sputtering thoughts conjured, and all he could get out, his final thoughts, his last word was, _Arya._

 

When he looked down and touched a disbelieving hand to the jagged wound on his torso, the memory of how it had got there came flooding back to him. Ser Alliser. Bowen Marsh. Othell Yarwyck. And… _Olly._ How long ago was that? His daughter… _His daughter!_

Jon stumbled off the table and was caught and cloaked by a stunned Davos Seaworth, trying to hold him steady but Jon pushed away, needing to know where his girl was. Was she alright? Was she safe? Had Sam been able to take her away as they planned? But Ser Davos was here. That must mean they hadn’t left yet. Davos wouldn’t ever let Shireen Baratheon out of his sight. Where were they?

 _“My dau—my dau… WHERE IS SHE?”_ Jon shouted through gritted teeth, useless tears spilling out of his eyes.

“I’ve got her,” Lady Melisandre called from the door, holding the wriggling toddler in her arms. Jon fell to his knees with Davos’s cloak wrapped around him and he held his arms out for the girl, reaching for her as if reaching for a lifeline.

 _“Papa!”_ she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck, breaking down and Jon breaking down right with her. _“Stay papa, stay!”_ she wept, her whole body trembling.

“I’ll never leave you again. _Never,”_ Jon swore. _“I promise.”_ And suddenly, without Jon knowing quite where it came from, not sure why it felt so right in the moment, he knew just what name to give her.

 

The morning of the battle, Aryanna had cried once more in his arms, urging him not to leave her. He tried to reassure her everything would be alright, that he wasn’t leaving her just going out to _deal with Lord Bolton_ \- he hadn’t told her how - but it was as if she knew better. _“You promised!”_ she wailed, her voice ringing in his ears as Sansa took hold of her so Jon could head out to the field. He had promised her. But how could he tell her that he was doing this _for_ her as well? If they didn’t take back Winterfell, she would never be safe. Not with Ramsay Bolton as Warden of the North.

Her screams echoed in his head as he rode out that morning. They echoed in his head as he cut through man after man. They echoed in his head as he beat Ramsay Bolton bloody. But then she was in his arms again - Sansa making an odd screeching sound as the dress she had made her niece was ruined immediately, getting soiled with mud and blood from Jon’s armor.

“Never do that again papa!” Ayanna cried, beating her little fists against his back. “Don’t leave me! Don’t ever leave me!” Jon hugged her back fiercely telling her they were home now. They were finally home.

 

“It’s going to be dangerous, Aryanna!” Jon tried reasoning with her. “We don’t know this Dragon Queen and if she does have dragons, they could swallow you whole.”

“They could swallow you whole too, papa!” she screeched back, stomping her little foot, hands on her hips, blocking the doorway to his solar. “You promised! You promised you would never leave again!”

“Aryanna I have to!” Jon told her firmly, not even noticing what he was throwing into the trunk anymore. He supposed he could have asked one of the servants to do his packing for him but Jon had always been used to doing things on his own and becoming King in the North hadn’t changed that.

“You _have_ to keep your promise to me!” Aryanna argued, tears now forming in her grey eyes, so very like his own.

“Aryanna, I am King now and a king watches over his people.” At her persistent, silent tears, Jon got down to one knee and cupped her face in his hands. “All of his people,” he insisted. “If I _don’t_ go, we won’t stand a chance against the Night King. What happened at Hardhome, what happened to Willa and Johnna’s mother, that will happen to all of us too if we don’t prepare.”

“So I’m going with you,” she said stubbornly. Jon opened his mouth to argue but she covered it with her little hand and continued. “Ghost will come with us. You always say he’ll keep me safe _no matter what._ Ghost won’t be scared of dragons and neither will I...And we can take aunt Arya with us too,” she added hopefully. Arya had only been home a few months but the two had been nearly inseparable since meeting. Jon wondered if it was because Arya was partly his daughter’s namesake or if he had been just _that good_ at choosing his daughter’s name as the two were so much alike.

“Your aunt Arya has to stay here to protect aunty Sansa and Shireen since Ser Davos is coming with us. But along with Ghost, you can choose one other protector. Will it be uncle Tormund?” he asked.

“I can go?” Aryanna whispered, tears still streaming down her face, but mouth split in a wide smile.

“You can go,” Jon acquiesced, knowing from the beginning this was likely going to happen. He hated being separated from his daughter as much as she did. He only prayed he wasn’t leading them into a trap.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, forgot to add: So yes, Arya returns before they leave for Dragonstone so Aryanna has met her (they're best buds), Ser Barristan is alive, he's in ch2 (why? cuz I can), and Shireen lives because Aryanna has to have a quick-witted teenager sister figure to teach her everything, right?


	2. Aryanna the Diplomat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's past 5pm CA time. Here's Chapter 2!
> 
> Jon and Aryanna arrive on Dragonstone to meet with Queen Daenerys. Aryanna helps solve an important issue and makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for *slight* explanation of the timeline.

 

“Why is papa using his angry voice with the queen?” Aryanna asked uncle Tormund with a frown on her face. That was not part of the plan after all. Aryanna had gone over the plan with her papa several times. He was to bow when he greeted her. He was to tell her how pretty she looked, even if she wasn’t pretty. He was to tell her how amazing she was for freeing all those poor slaves in Slaver’s Bay. He was to tell her all about the Night King and the White Walkers and the army of the dead. He was to *politely* ask Queen Daenerys if they could mine the dragonglass. If she said yes to that, he was to also *politely* ask Her Grace if she would come North and fight with them. And if he had time, her papa was also to ask Queen Daenerys if Aryanna could meet her dragons.

“I don’t know Princess but best stay here and wait. Them dragons the Queen’s got look mighty fierce,” uncle Tormund told her and at hearing once more about the Queen’s dragons, Aryanna smiled. She couldn’t wait to meet them and meet Queen Daenerys. Her papa and Ser Davos might have ducked when the dragon flew over them when they arrived but Aryanna hadn’t flinched and neither had Ghost, just like she knew he wouldn’t. Both direwolf and princess had jumped up on the stone wall of the steps to watch in awe as the dragon flew away, Ghost letting out a low _howwwlll_ after it in greeting, making Aryanna giggle. She wasn’t afraid of the dragons and she wouldn’t be afraid of the Queen. She just knew that Queen Daenerys would be like her ancestors Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen. Aunt Arya had told her all about them and how fierce they were, women warriors and dragonriders who had helped Aegon the Conqueror bring all the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros together!

But as Aryanna heard her papa raise his voice once again, she knew he had not stuck to her plan and so she knew she must go in there to fix it. As she started to march toward the big doors of the throne room though, Ghost at her side, uncle Tormund grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“Oh no you don’t little wild wolf. You let your papa do the talking.” He tugged her arm but Aryanna tugged right back. She was not going to let her papa ruin this meeting. She hadn’t even got to pet the dragons yet!

“Uncle Tormund let go of me or I’ll bite you!” she growled, Ghost taking a defensive stance next to her and Aryanna made to bare her teeth close to uncle Tormund’s forearm but he let go with a yelp, knowing better than to try and call her bluff. Uncle Tormund hissed after her but didn’t grab her again. When Aryanna got to the great big doors which were slightly cracked, she and Ghost peeked inside first to see just where her papa had gone wrong.

As she took in the enormous throne room, Aryanna gasped, having never seen a room so big and intimidating in her entire life. And when her eyes found the Queen, she gasped again, for she had never seen a woman more beautiful, not even her aunty Sansa. Queen Daenerys stood in front of her papa, her hands clasped tightly in front of her belly and her pretty faced pulled down in a frown. She wore her hair in many complicated braids around the top of her head, but near the bottom it fell in pretty silver waves Aryanna thought would be soft to the touch.

But as Aryanna poked her head further into the throne room, the Queen was distracted by the movement and her eyes left her papa and settled on Aryanna instead. Knowing she was caught, Aryanna pushed the doors open a bit wider and shuffled inside, clinging tight to Ghost. Her papa turned too, wondering what the Queen was staring at. But while the Queen’s face lightened, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise, her papa frowned and his nostrils did that flare thing they always did whenever he was incredibly angry. But what was Aryanna supposed to do? She had to make sure the meeting went okay and by the sound of it from outside, the meeting hadn’t been going well at all.

“Aryanna, I told you to wait outside!” Papa hissed at her and Ser Davos made a grab at her but Aryanna rushed forward and gripped her papa’s hand and Ghost positioned himself between them so she couldn’t be taken away.

“But I heard you using your angry voice with the Queen!” she insisted and she saw the Queen purse her lips, Aryanna thought maybe to hide a smile. “That wasn’t the plan papa! You were supposed to tell her how pretty she looked and you were supposed to ask her _nicely_ for the dragonglass and you were supposed to tell her about the Night King and you were supposed to ask if I could meet her dragons.” This time Aryanna was sure the Queen wanted to smile, but as quickly as the expression crossed her face, it was replaced by another small frown.

“Dragon...glass?” the Queen asked, looking at her instead of papa. “I don’t have…why would you come here to ask me for glass?”

Before Aryanna could answer the Queen’s question though, her papa spoke. “Perhaps, Your Grace, we could continue this discussion without my daughter present.” _How unfair!_ The Queen was asking _her_ about the dragonglass, not papa! She had just come in and she still hadn’t got permission to meet the dragons. She didn’t want to leave yet.

“Frankly she seems much more diplomatic than either of you,” the Queen nodded to papa and Ser Davos and papa huffed like he did whenever Aryanna argued with him and won. Aryanna didn’t know what _diplomatic_ meant but it sounded like a compliment so she took it as one. The Queen stuck out a hand for Ghost to sniff and when he nudged her for a pat, she scratched behind his ears. “Who’s this handsome fellow?” she asked kindly.

“His name’s Ghost and he’s a direwolf!” Aryanna explained and the Queen nodded approvingly.

“Tell me about this glass sweetling,” she asked her. “Aryanna, is it?” Aryanna nodded and reached out and grasped the Queen’s outstretched hand. The Queen led her to the dais and they sat together on the steps, Ghost at their feet, her papa and Ser Davos and the Queen’s companions watching awkwardly around them.

“Maester Wolkan calls it obsidian,” Aryanna began, having practiced her speech just in case her papa messed up and would need her help. “Samwell, who was my papa’s brother in the Night’s Watch, said he killed a White Walker with dragonglass. Aunty Gilly saw it happen and everything. Now Samwell’s at the Citadel and a few weeks ago he wrote my papa a letter saying there was a mountain of dragonglass right here on Dragonstone. I guess that makes sense. Since they both have the word _dragon_ in them.”

The Queen stared at her for a long moment then sighed, her face looking a little irritated and Aryanna wondered why. The Queen looked up at papa. “So you’ve told this tale to your daughter as well, about a Night King and White Wa—”

“It’s not a tale!” Aryanna insisted and the Queen stared down at her again, still frowning. “My friend Willa was at Hardhome with my papa the day the Night King came for everyone.” It wasn’t a pleasant story or one Aryanna liked to speak of or ask of much. But she knew she had to tell Queen Daenerys in order to prove the Night King was real. “And Willa’s ten so she’s much smarter than I am. She watched it all happen from the little boats taking them to King Stannis’s ships. She said…said it was like a cloud, falling over the mountain. Even from the boats she heard everyone shouting and screaming. Then the big wooden gate got knocked down and people were running into the sea even though it was freezing, just so that the wights wouldn’t get them. Papa and Ed and uncle Tormund were there fighting. Uncle Tormund said he saw papa kill the White Walker with Longclaw but your Dothraki men took it when we arrived on the beach.” The Queen’s eyes were shiny now and she looked up at papa, her face a silent question.

“My sword,” papa told her in his gruff voice. “Valyrian steel.” The Queen closed her mouth and nodded, then looked back to Aryanna.

“Papa and uncle Tormund and Ed barely escaped on the boat. And when everyone on shore was dead, the Night King walked out and raised his arms.” Aryanna raised her arms just like Willa did when she told her the story. “Then they were all…moving again. But they’re not alive. Papa and uncle Tormund had to tell Willa and the other children that, even if they see their mothers and fathers again, if they’ve got bright blue eyes, they’re not really them anymore. And we have to kill them with the dragonglass or fire so that their bodies can be at peace again.”

Aryanna watched as the Queen looked up to her papa and Ser Davos, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. All papa did was nod to backup Aryanna’s story but not doing a very good job of it, she thought. Aryanna prayed the Queen believed her but for good measure she squeezed the Queen’s soft warm hand and added, “I promise I’m not lying. Uncle Tormund said the old gods don’t like liars and they watch you all the time through the faces in the weirwood trees to make sure you don’t lie. If you lie they pop out of the trees and hang you upside down by your big toes from the highest branch of the weirwood in punishment!” The Queen chuckled at that though Aryanna wasn’t sure why. Hanging upside down by your big toes from a weirwood sounded awful to her. But perhaps in Essos the punishments for lying were even worse.

“How old are you Aryanna?” The Queen asked gently.

“Five!” she proclaimed proudly. The Queen’s smile widened.

“I have a son not much older than you. Would you like to sup with us this evening, my dear?” the Queen invited and Aryanna thought her heart might burst from happiness. “Your father and Ser Davos would of course, be invited as well,” the Queen added.

“And Uncle Tormund?” Aryanna asked excitedly.

“The more the merrier,” the Queen approved warmly though Aryanna didn’t not catch the way papa gave Ser Davos a questioning look. But she didn’t much care. Aside from their rough start with papa using his angry voice before she had come in and fixed everything, their first few hours on Dragonstone were just as Aryanna had hoped they would be.

 

After telling her advisor Missandei to fetch her son - whom Aryanna learned was named Rhaego - the Queen, Rhaego, papa, Ser Davos, Uncle Tormund, Missandei, Aryanna, some of the Queen’s Dothraki guards, Ghost, and a knight named Ser Barristan, walked back down the long stairway to the beach to hunt for the entrance to the dragonglass cave. Lord Tyrion decided to stay behind as he said the steps were much too much to walk even once a day. Twice was out of the question.

“Samwell’s letter says it should be right near the steps,” Aryanna told everyone proudly from Ghost’s back, the direwolf well accustomed to letting her ride him like a pony. Aryanna had memorized all of Samwell’s letter, aunty Gilly and Shireen having taught her to read when she was very little. It was one of Aryanna’s all time favorite things to do and Rhaego said it was his favorite thing to do too!

“Well, aside from practicing swords with Ser Barristan or Ser Jorah but…Ser Jorah’s been sick and we haven’t got to see him since we left Meereen.” Rhaego hung his head sadly. “Greyscale is very hard to cure and mama said Ser Jorah might have to stay away for a very long time.” But at this, Aryanna smiled knowingly.

“My friend Shireen had greyscale as a baby!” she explained and Rhaego quirked his head, curious. “She was cured of it though so I’m sure Ser Jorah will be too!”

“Really?” Rhaego asked and Aryanna noticed the Queen, who was walking behind them with papa next to her, turned to her papa with a puzzled face. Aryanna nodded brightly at Rhaego’s question.

“She has some scars on her cheek from it but she’s not sick anymore and she can’t pass it to anyone else. Maybe if you visit us in Winterfell you’ll get to meet her!” Rhaego’s face brightened immediately. When they reached the sand, Aryanna hopped down from Ghost and Rhaego took her hand in his, both sprinting toward the area of the beach Samwell’s map had pointed to, the direwolf wagging his tale and trotting after them.

 

Jon watched as his daughter and the Queen’s son laughed and ran through the sand, something about the sight tugging at his undead heartstrings. But before he could think on it further or even speak, the Queen grabbed his forearm to stop him. “Was your daughter’s friend really cured of greyscale?” she asked quietly.

“The princess Shireen was infected as a baby,” Ser Barristan informed her, having known the young girl because of his service to her uncle, King Robert. “Lord Stannis summoned all manner of healers and maesters, even so called sorcerers from the far East...whatever it was, something cured her.” The Queen smiled at the news and Jon didn’t know why but for some reason it irritated him.

“This Ser Jorah...wouldn’t happen to be Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, would he?” Jon asked. “Son of Jeor Mormont?”

“The very same,” Ser Barristan answered. Jon bristled. The exiled slaver who had dishonored his family and broken his father’s heart. Had caused his father so much pain that the Lord Commander had seen Jon as more of a son than his real son. Jon pursed his lips, saying nothing.

“He’s much changed since he left the North,” Ser Barristan went on as if reading Jon’s thoughts. “From exiled slaver to staying by our Queen’s side to help her free the slaves of Essos. I’d say he’s more than paid for his crimes,” Barristan added unnecessarily.

“His father was like a father to me,” Jon explained to them of the former Lord Commander. “I wished I could have been with him when he died. Tough old bear, right up until the end, I was told.”

“And the fiercest little lady for a niece if ever you did meet one,” Ser Davos chuckled.

“Even more fierce than your Aryanna?” the Queen asked humorously. But just then, Jon saw his daughter and the Queen’s son dip into a break in the rock that lined the beach.

“Aryanna!” “Rhaego!” Jon and the Queen shouted at the same time but neither of the young ones listened. “Bloody wild child,” Jon swore under his breath and he thought he saw the Queen grin as they both picked up their pace to a slight jog in order to see where the children had got to.

“WE FOUND IT!” Rhaego called proudly once Jon and the Queen had reached the entrance to what they now could see was a deep cave. Ghost waited outside patiently, seemingly not a fan of tight spaces.

“Here!” Selmy called, taking a torch from one of the Dothraki and handing it to his queen.

“Come back here you two!” Jon called to them but was only answered in secretive giggles and snickers. It amazed Jon how quickly children could form such bonds, both being from entirely different worlds, having very different accents, looking completely different - Aryanna with her grey Stark eyes and kissed-by-fire red hair and Rhaego with his mother’s silver locks and violet eyes yet skin copper, likely after his father. Even still, it was as if the two were friends from the moment they met not an hour ago.

“Rhaego, come back here sweetling. You shouldn’t go wandering by yourself in strange places,” the Queen warned her son.

“I’m not by myself,” Rhaego shot back defiantly as Jon and the Queen made their way into the cave after them. Jon noticed the Queen roll her eyes and for a moment, he thought she knew exactly how he felt being left to raise a child alone. Yes, they may have had servants and friends around to help, but it was a tiring job nonetheless. For the briefest of moments Jon wondered if the Queen missed her Dothraki husband Tyrion had told him about as they had walked in from the beach hours before. But as the narrow passageway they were walking through opened up into a large cavern, Jon noticed the Queen give a small gasp.

“Papa, Samwell was right! There’s enough dragonglass here for everyone in the North! Maybe the world!” Davos, Tormund, Missandei and Barristan filed in behind them, each taking in the rugged splendor of the dragonglass cave.

“My prince,” Barristan said, handing another torch to Rhaego so he could light up the other end of the cave. It must have been at least five times the size of the Great Hall at Winterfell and in different corners, smaller passageways led out to what Jon assumed must have been yet more caverns. And nearly every inch of the cave they were currently in, was covered in the dark, shiny substance.

“Others take me,” Tormund swore. “It’s a fucking miracle.” Jon shot him a disapproving glare but before he could chastise his friend and advisor further, the Queen called out.

“Rhaego, Aryanna, wait! Don’t go in there!” Jon spun around only to see his daughter disappearing down a narrow passageway headed further into the cave. Jon shook his head in exasperation.

“Yours listens about as well as mine does,” he told the Queen quietly, smiling, and the responding smile that spread across her lips at his words made his insides squirm with warmth. She was quite pretty when she smiled. But Jon’s strange and sudden confusing thoughts and feelings were pushed aside entirely when he heard a gasp from the small passageway his daughter had disappeared into.

“Prince Rhaego are you alright?” Selmy called as Jon and the Queen scrambled after them.

“What did you find little wild wolf?” Tormund called. “Is this where some o’ Gendel’s children wound up?” He chuckled to himself and as Jon and the Queen inched through the passageway, he heard his daughter call back, “That’s not funny Uncle Tormund!”

“Mama you have to see this,” Rhaego got out and soon enough Jon saw the light of Rhaego’s torch. When the passageway opened up, he hopped down the few feet into the cavern and without thinking, held out his hand to help the Queen jump down as well. She eyed him for the smallest of seconds before taking his hand, Jon suddenly wishing he hadn’t as he enjoyed the feel of it way too much.

“Mama, look!” Rhaego whispered dramatically and when Jon’s eyes adjusted to the light of the smaller, darker cave, it was his turn to suck in a breath. All throughout this smaller cavern were drawings on the rock, very little dragonglass just…sketches and symbols, possibly messages, a giant circular carving Jon thought might have been a weirwood tree or an island.

“Papa, do you think…was it…the Children of the Forest?” Aryanna asked in awe.

“Children?” Rhaego questioned, backing up against his mother and pulling her hand close in comfort.

“Not really children. They’re a…an extinct people, Rhaego,” Jon explained absently, reaching out a hand to trace over a few of the signs. “At least we think they’re extinct. Some may live beyond The Wall but no one has seen them for hundreds of years. Smaller than us, they taught the First Men about the old gods. Our gods,” he nodded to Aryanna and took her outstretched hand. “My friend Samwell read that the Children used to fight and hunt with daggers and arrowheads made from dragonglass. I usually only think of them as being from the North but they lived throughout Westeros. They must have been here too.”

“These had to have been made thousands of years ago,” the Queen breathed in wonderment and Jon nodded in agreement. “They were right here. Standing where we’re standing. Before there were Targaryens or Starks or Lannisters. Maybe even before there were men.”

“I don’t think so,” Aryanna disagreed gently. “Look.” She pointed to a depiction of several humanoid beings, a few much taller, some much smaller. “Those are the Children,” Aryanna pointed to the smaller ones, then to the larger ones saying, “And those must be the First Men.”

“You’re really smart,” Rhaego told Aryanna breathlessly, letting go of his mother’s hand to wander about the small cavern some more. Jon caught the Queen’s small, knowing smirk and his chest puffed with pride.

“Small island for two different peoples to coexist peacefully. Do you think they were here fighting each other? Before The Pact?” the Queen asked Jon and he shrugged, unsure. The Pact was thousands of years ago as well but that was signed on the Isle of Faces, supposedly, not here. A nice little story told to children about the First Men. But Jon thought it may have been embellished to hide what the First Men had done to the Children and the hundreds of year the two races were at war with each other.

“These…aren’t men, are they?” Rhaego said suddenly, using his torch to light up a particular part of the cave wall. Jon and the two ladies moved to stand behind him and the Queen winced at the carving. There wasn’t an ounce of color anywhere else in the entire cave…but those four figures…someone had taken great care in ensuring they got the eyes _just_ right. Eyes bright and unsettlingly ice blue.  

“The White Walkers,” Aryanna whispered in recognition, moving forward to trace the first figure. “Papa, is that…is that him? He’s got a crown. Is that…the Night King?” Jon noticed Rhaego and his mother give identical involuntary shudders.

“Aye,” Jon breathed in answer to his daughter’s question. “That’s him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Aryanna is five (when this chapter and subsequent ones take place) and Rhaego is seven (Aryanna being born around the end of Season 3 and Rhaego of course being born near the end of Season 1). To make up/stretch the time, I imagine there were several months after Jon escaped the wildlings and before Mance attacked The Wall, then several more months between the attack and when the wildling woman brings Aryanna to Jon. Several months of her at The Wall with Jon before he dies, several months between his resurrection and them taking Winterfell, then maybe a year or so between Jon being named King and them leaving for Dragonstone. Again, timeline is fucked but it's just for fun. :D
> 
> (Ridiculous side note to make you guys laugh, I was going to do a mini-moodboard for this chapter (got lazy though and didn't, might add later) anyway, I googled "obsidian" and apparently you can buy dildos and buttplugs made of obsidian. You know, in case any of you guys desperately needed to know that information LOL) ;)


	3. Rhaego the Dreamer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks sup with the Targaryens. Rhaego has an important dream. Jon and Dany leave Dragonstone and return.  
> (Yeah I'm horrible with chapter summaries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Dany and Rhaego's perspective!  
> Warning: Over the top fluff followed by major angst ahead.

It wasn’t much for Daenerys to grant Jon Snow leave to mine the dragonglass as she and her armies had no use for it, brittle and stubborn to forge as it was. After all, after their little treck in the caves, she couldn’t deny the walkers _had_ existed, even if she still wasn’t sure they existed _now_. But Snow seemed surprised nonetheless when she made the announcement as the four of them stood in the small grotto, blue rock eyes glaring back at them. Little Aryanna had hugged her and thanked her profusely for allowing them to mine the dragonglass. Rhaego volunteered to help mine it of course but luckily Snow had stepped in, telling her son it wasn’t a prince’s work, mining, and that he likely would be busy with lessons, as would his daughter. Daenerys agreed and as soon as they got back to the castle set Ser Barristan to the task of locating a maester who could serve them and teach the children.

 

Dinner that first night with the Starks was an unusual affair, the children doing most of the talking so she and Snow didn’t have to. For some odd reason all her advisors had declined the dinner invitation and so had Snow’s, leaving just the four of them. What was worse, Daenerys had no idea what to say to the man either. She wasn’t comfortable discussing battle tactics with him, didn’t want to hear about the White Walkers and Night King anymore than she already had, and by what she had heard from Tyrion, his childhood had been just as dreadful as hers so that was off limits as well. The children didn’t seem to mind though, being the center of conversation. It amazed Daenerys how quickly Rhaego and Aryanna had taken to each other. But then again, Rhaego didn’t have many friends his own age. His Dothraki was subpar even with Missandei’s coaching so the children in the Dothraki village weren’t always the most patient. But Aryanna, being half wilding herself, seemed to understand her son on an almost visceral level, a nearly immediate, intangible bond forming between them.

“My aunt Arya is the best swordsman I’ve ever seen,” Aryanna was saying between bites of baked salmon. Daenerys had worried at first that her northern guests would detest the food on Dragonstone but both father and daughter tucked in with pleased hums.

“Girls can’t wield swords,” Rhaego blurted, expression incredibly skeptical.

“Rhaego!” Daenerys chastised, and she didn’t not notice the way Snow hid a smile behind his horn of ale.

“Well they can’t…only knights and…kings. Right mama?” He looked up at her doubtfully and Daenerys was just about to open her mouth to answer when Aryanna interrupted.

“Girls can do anything boys can do! My aunt Arya beat Lady Brienne in the training yard at Winterfell and she almost beat papa too but aunty Sansa told them to stop because she thought they were acting like children.” It was Daenerys’s turn to snicker into her wine cup while Snow glared down at his daughter.

“Aunt Arya did not _almost beat me._ It was a tie and I would have beaten her in the end if your aunty Sansa hadn’t put a stop to it.” His eyes darted briefly to hers and Daenerys was oddly pleased to see a warm blush color his cheeks. He was quite comely when he blushed.

“And Rhaego, do you think any King would be better at ruling than I am?” Daenerys asked her son who sheepishly shook his head.

“You’re the best queen and ruler there is,” he announced, Daenerys raising an eyebrow to the King in the North who smirked, eyes briefly shooting up toward the ceiling.

“Your Grace,” Aryanna began and a pang went through Daenerys to hear the girl call her that.

“Aryanna…you may call me Daenerys. Or Dany if you like.” The girl’s expression brightened immensely, even though she was a smiley child to begin with. For one sudden wild moment, Daenerys thought Aryanna could be her daughter, younger sister to her son. But as the girl began to speak again, Daenerys shook off the thought.

“Dany…can I ask you…how…how did you know how to hatch your dragons? Did someone teach you?” Dany swallowed, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t an altogether happy memory, the night she hatched her other sons. Her husband dead, the _khalasar_ almost entirely disbanded, and her little Rhaego squirming and barely clinging to life in Irri’s arms. But Aryanna was only being curious, having no knowledge of the dreadful events that had lead to that night. So Daenerys answered her.

“I had dreams you see,” Dany began and immediately the little girl put down her fork and leaned in to catch her every word. “Fever dreams, while I was in labor with Rhaego. Dreams that told me to _wake the dragon._ So, when I finally came to, that’s what I did. I built a great fire and placed the eggs inside. And then…I stepped into the fire with them.” Aryanna’s jaw dropped as did her father’s though Snow quickly shut his mouth to cover up his obvious astonishment.

“You walked into fire?” Aryanna demanded, eyes wide as saucers.

“That’s why they call her _The Unburnt!”_ Rhaego chimed in, clearly proud of her. Dany patted his blond head and gave him a quick kiss which she was pleased he didn’t wince away from.

“I knew the fire wouldn’t harm me,” Dany went on. “It was the last piece of the puzzle. If I hadn’t walked into the fire, I don’t think we’d be here right now and neither would our dragons. Once I stepped into the flames, the eggs started to crack, one by one. And before I knew it, three tiny dragons were clinging to my legs.”

“You’re kissed by fire!” Aryanna exclaimed and her father blushed further, confusing Dany. “It’s what everyone in the North says of me because of my hair. But you’re _really_ kissed by fire.”

“I suppose so,” Daenerys shrugged humbly, her stomach annoyingly fluttering when Snow smiled at her.

 

Having Aryanna on the island to play and do lessons with was just about the best thing that had ever happened. While Rhaego loved Missandei and Ser Barristan and Tyrion and his mama, Aryanna was only two years younger than he was so instead of people teaching and showing him new things, he got to teach and show her a few things. He got to show her the dragons for one. King Jon was very nervous about this but when Rhaego ran out to greet his big brothers and Viserion knocked him over, nuzzling him for a pat, the King realized the dragons were okay and allowed Aryanna to greet them.

“Have you ever flown on them before?” Aryanna shouted over the wind and the dragons chuffs and purrs of delight as they ate up as much attention as Rhaego, Aryanna, and mama could give them. Even King Jon reached out a hand to let Drogon sniff him and he patted his snout when his big brother relaxed and closed his eyes in contentment.

“Only once. When mama returned from Meereen with the Dothraki. It was the day before we left and we only flew around the great pyramid twice before we landed but it was wonderful!” Aryanna wiggled with delight at hearing this. Rhaego asked his mother and King Jon if they could take Aryanna flying around the island but both adults said very stern _Nos,_ much to his and Aryanna’s disappointment.

 

When mama had left for a few days to _settle matters in the Reach,_ Rhaego got to sup with Aryanna and King Jon every night she was gone. And once King Jon even allowed him and Aryanna to sleep in the fort they had made in his solar, after reading them a bedtime story of course. A few of the afternoons, Rhaego was also allowed to train with Aryanna’s uncle Tormund and boy did Rhaego learn a lot from him. The Free Folk fought much differently from Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah but Tormund told him it was good for him to learn all different ways of fighting - the fighting style of Westerosi knights, the Free Folk, the Dothraki, everyone. If he could fight like them all, he would be that much more prepared when the White Walkers came for them.

Aryanna didn’t like to talk about the White Walkers because of all her friends who had lost family when they attacked the wildling city of Hardhome beyond The Wall. But Tormund would answer Rhaego’s questions when he thought of them and sometimes King Jon did as well. The White Walkers and the Night King were evil beings and wanted to see the destruction of the whole world. They brought death and cold and darkness with them. And the last time they had attacked humans, there had been a night that lasted nearly one hundred years. King Jon and Tormund were convinced his big brothers were meant to fight the White Walkers and that made a lot of sense to Rhaego. His brothers were fire made flesh everyone said. And fire melted ice.

So when King Jon received a letter from home saying his brother Bran - who had magical powers almost like Daenys the Dreamer - saw the Night King marching toward the Night’s Watch castle, Eastwatch, Rhaego knew what needed to happen before everyone else did. King Jon and Tormund and Ser Jorah - who had _just_ come back to them from being healed at the Citadel - shouldn’t go North. His brothers should.

“King Jon…will be fine Rhaego,” mama was telling him as she tucked him into bed the night before the men were to leave for Eastwatch. But he could tell by the way her voice sounded funny that there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“You’re worried for King Jon and Jorah, aren’t you mama?” Rhaego asked. Mama hesitated before she answered.

“King Jon and Jorah are strong fighters. They know how to take care of themselves. And besides,” she added. “Do you really think King Jon would go to a very very dangerous mission when Aryanna is here? He wouldn’t risk leaving her. They will be alright.”

“But you don’t want King Jon to go, do you?” he pressed, wishing talking to grown ups wasn’t always so complicated and that they would just say what they meant right away instead of giving lots of little answers that weren’t all the way the truth. “Do you?” he repeated, finding himself irritated that she wouldn’t say it. She gave an exasperated sigh.

“No, I don’t want King Jon to leave,” she admitted. “But he is a King and it is not my place to tell him what to do.” She pursed her lips like she did when he would come back from training with Ser Barristan or Grey Worm with bruises all over his arms and legs. She wouldn’t tell him he couldn’t train but she didn’t like it anyway.

“If you went with them on Drogon they would be much safer,” Rhaego insisted. “And you could be back in just a few days. The ship will take so much longer and if they get into trouble—”

“Enough Rhaego!” mama hissed. “It’s not your place to speak of such things. King Jon has decided to go on this mission and that’s the end of it. We still don’t even know if these dead men are real. That’s what King Jon needs to prove.”

“But in the cave we saw them! We saw the White Wa—” But mama held up her hand to make him stop talking.

“We saw drawings from thousands of years ago. We don’t know what is real and what isn’t until King Jon comes back. Now go to sleep.” Before Rhaego could protest, she got up and blew out the candle on the table next to his bed, not even bothering to tell him a bedtime story or wish him happy dreams as she usually did. Which only served to make him even more irritated with her.

The next morning, Aryanna didn’t cry as her father left for Eastwatch. She told Rhaego she once made her papa promise never to leave her but she knew this mission was incredibly important. Her uncle Bran had been crippled when he was a small boy and yet he survived years beyond The Wall and had returned home with _the sight._ Strange things that shouldn’t be possible were now happening. Rhaego had told his mother yet again that morning that she should have gone with King Jon with his big brothers but his mama refused to hear anymore.

“Ghost should at least come with you King Jon,” Rhaego insisted as they saw them off on the beach that morning. Aryanna nodded in agreement. “He’ll keep you safe.” But King Jon just smiled down at him and ruffled his hair.

“I’ve got him right here,” King Jon chuckled and unbuckled his swordbelt, passing the sword to Rhaego to look at. Indeed, the hilt was the spitting image of Ghost. “Valyrian steel Rhaego. Remember what Tormund told you about Valyrian steel?”

“It kills White Walkers,” Rhaego sighed feeling defeated. Why did no one ever listen to him?

“And wights. With this in my hand, the Night King won’t stand a chance. I promise you lad.” At Rhaego’s unsatisfied expression, King Jon went on. “And besides, Ghost hates ships and he loves you and Aryanna. I don’t think he’d go with me if I asked him.” Rhaego gave King Jon a rueful smile. He wished, _wished_ he could find something to say to convince King Jon to stay, even if Aryanna didn’t mind him leaving and thought it was the right thing for her papa to do.

In the end, Rhaego sighed and held mama’s hand and Aryanna’s hand as King Jon and Jorah and Davos and Tormund pushed off and departed for Eastwatch.

 

The night before the raven came, Rhaego had dreamed of it. Had seen thousands and thousands of dead men surrounding King Jon and Tormund and Ser Jorah among other companions he didn’t know. He had told them, _told them_ it was a bad idea. But no one had listened to him and now it might be too late!

“It was just a dream my sweet,” mama told him as they broke their fast.

“Was my papa okay?” Aryanna demanded between bites of porridge.

“Rhaego only had a nightmare, Aryanna. Your papa is fine. _At least he better be,”_ mama muttered under her breath, pursing her lips in thought. Rhaego raised an eyebrow at her but she didn’t notice because Maester Pylos came in then with a raven’s scroll. Usually Maester Pylos didn’t interrupt them when they were at meals…unless it was very urgent news. Rhaego’s heart pounded as mama read over the scroll, her eyes quickly scanning over the words several times.

“Is it from my papa?” Aryanna asked worriedly. They had heard from King Jon three days ago saying they had made it to Eastwatch fine and would be setting out soon to find a wight to capture. Rhaego silently prayed to the old gods and the new that this letter was just King Jon saying they had returned to The Wall after a successful mission. But his dreams had told him true.

“Your papa is fine Aryanna,” mama lied, Rhaego knew.

“He’s not fine!” Rhaego got out, reaching for the scroll but mama yanked it away too quickly, tucking it down her robes.

“He will be fine,” mama corrected, doing that thing again where she only told part of the truth. “He just needs me to come help them a little.” She stood then and quickly whispered something to Maester Pylos. Maester Pylos nodded and rushed out of the hall.

“Papa will be okay, won’t he?” Aryanna demanded, her eyes quickly filling with tears and Rhaego found his throat tighten too. If anything happened to King Jon…or Jorah…or Tormund…well, he wasn’t quite sure what he would do. Mama stared down at Aryanna, an odd expression on her face.

“He will be okay,” mama told her quietly, then bent down to hug her tight, kissing the top of her head and forehead and cheeks as a few tears spilled out of Aryanna’s eyes. “I promise.”

When she left the hall to get ready, Aryanna stared at him, breathing hard, but she wasn’t crying anymore. “Are you okay, Aryanna?” Rhaego asked her hesitantly.

 _“Dark wings, dark words,”_ was all she said, in a whisper.

 

Not an hour later, mama flew off, taking all three of his brothers with her. Rhaego was glad of that. The mission had only been to capture one wight but Rhaego secretly hoped once his brothers were beyond The Wall, they might defeat this Night King and the war would be over before anyone had to fight or die.

Several tense days went by before they got any news. But then, blessedly, the raven came, Maester Pylos smiling as he gave the scroll to Rhaego and Aryanna to read. His mama had come just in the nick of time and rescued everyone, Ser Jorah, King Jon, and Tormund. Because of King Jon’s injuries though, they would be taking the ship back to Dragonstone instead of flying so it would be a few more weeks yet before they saw them.  

Still, the good news was like a weight off Rhaego’s chest, Aryanna too. To celebrate, they put on a play for Missandei, Tyrion, Ser Barristan, Maester Pylos, Lord Varys and Lord Theon about how they thought the wight hunt went, based on the raven’s scrolls and Rhaego’s dream. Rhaego played King Jon and Aryanna played his mama and Ghost played the dragons, an old cloak of Rhaego’s cut to make his wings. Rhaego beat at the _wights_ (his collection of plush animals) with his wooden practice sword but of course, they were just too much. There were too many of them!

“Help me Queen Dany!” he called and in bound Aryanna riding on top of Ghost to save the day. Aryanna reached down and pulled Rhaego up on Ghost’s back and Ghost grabbed one of the _wights_ between his teeth and shook it back and forth until it was _dead_ . Rhaego bopped the largest _wight_ on the head several times and exclaimed, “Take _that_ Night King! My Valyrian Steel sword will defeat any foe!” Rhaego hit the _Night King_ twice more for good measure making Aryanna giggle and they rode away back to _The Wall_ (a stack of cushions), the Night King defeated and their mission completed.

Once they dismounted the _dragon_ , Rhaego took one of Aryanna’s hands in both of his. “Thank you for saving me Queen Dany,” he told her.

“Anytime King Jon,” Aryanna beamed. Rhaego bent down and kissed Aryanna’s hand, as he thought King Jon would do. King Jon was a gentleman after all and gentlemen always kissed lady's hands in the songs and plays. Aryanna blushed a little and Rhaego felt his cheeks grow pink too but he didn’t care. They were just playing.

They both turned toward their _audience_ and bowed, everyone clapping, but Missandei clapped the loudest.

 

Over the next few weeks, Rhaego and Aryanna continued their lessons with Maester Pylos and trained with Ser Barristan. Rhaego missed his big brothers and his mama but Aryanna kept him great company and so did Ghost. After their lessons before sunset each day they would take the Ghost down to the beach and hunt for seashells and swim and laugh as the direwolf chased seagulls, all of them content and carefree.

Those were the good days. The _happy_ days.

But everything changed when mama and King Jon came back from Eastwatch…with only Rhaegal and Drogon.

 

Rhaego tried to keep his tears in. He wanted to be brave and strong. But he knew as soon as his two brothers returned, their cries sad, even Ghost giving a low, mournful _hoowwll…_ something was very wrong.

When their skiff landed on the beach, mama sprinted to him and fell to her knees enveloping him and Aryanna in her arms, King Jon moving a bit slower with a walking cane behind. His mama’s choked breaths told Rhaego everything he needed to know but still, he asked just in case, maybe, just maybe…

“Vis…Vise…” He couldn’t even pronounce his brother’s whole name his chest was so tight with the pain of what he knew was true. Tears spilled down mama’s face, her lip trembling. King Jon walked up then, leaning heavily on his walking cane, but he knelt down next to them, wrapping an arm around Aryanna and putting a gentle hand on Rhaego’s shoulder. “Vis…?” Rhaego tried to say again, maybe hoping King Jon would give him a different answer, though he knew it was useless. King Jon bit his lip, tears in his eyes as well. _Kings never cry,_ Rhaego thought. When King Jon spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Your big brother… He fought _so_ bravely Rhaego. _So bravely._ He saved us all.” Rhaego sniffed and took big heaving but broken breaths, again trying not to cry. _His brother…_ But when Aryanna whispered, “I’m so sorry Rhaego,” and put her arms around his neck, he broke down into gasping sobs, clutching her fiercely and burying his face in her sweet smelling ginger curls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of wanted Rhaego to have premonition dreams like Dany and like Daenys the Dreamer. He is a Targaryen after all so I thought it would be natural for him to have that and have strong intuitions about the Night King. What did you guys think?
> 
> Also, small note: Pylos is the maester on Dragonstone when Stannis is there, after Maester Cressen kills himself trying to kill Melisandre with the poison. So that's where he came from in case anyone was wondering!


	4. Endings and Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viserion is honored. Jon makes a decision.  
> (I'm as bad with chapter titles as I am with summaries!)

That afternoon, after Jon and Daenerys had landed on Dragonstone, Aryanna insisted on having a ceremony to honor Viserion and Rhaego agreed, though he hadn’t spoken much since they got back. It was only meant to be a small gathering with Jon, Aryanna, Rhaego, Dany, and Ghost…but nearly the whole crew and council wanted to pay their respects once word got out, including Missandei, Jorah, Barristan, Varys, Theon, Tormund, Tyrion, Davos, young Gendry Waters, and even Sandor Clegane. As they didn’t have his body, Rhaego buried an old tooth Viserion had lost when he was small (he apparently had many extra so it was not difficult for him to part with it). They buried the tooth in Aegon’s Garden, Barristan saying the burial words of the Seven, though Dany often told Jon she no longer believed in any gods. She had planned on leaving one of her silver dragon baubles to mark the spot the tooth was buried but Davos offered to carve his likeness in a piece of driftwood instead and set to the task shortly after.

Oddly, it was Sandor Clegane’s words that seemed to comfort Rhaego the most, inappropriate as they were. “We’ll put a stop to that cunt lad, don’t you worry. He’ll pay for what he did to your dragon.” Sandor patted Rhaego on the shoulder and walked away, leaving Rhaego wide-eyed and lips pursed as if trying to hold back a smile at the man’s crude language.

After the ceremony and kind words from everyone, Aryanna and Rhaego refused to be separated, meaning Jon and Dany could no longer avoid each other as they had on the ship. When supper was finished, they sat in Dany’s solar in front of the fire, cushions and blankets strewn across the floor for their comfort. Their respective children were nestled in their arms and Ghost sat as close as he could to Dany and Rhaego, the direwolf sensing just how much the young boy needed him then.

For a while Aryanna entertained everyone with stories about what she and Rhaego did when he and Dany were gone but soon both children began to yawn and fell silent, holding each other’s hands and eventually falling asleep.

“Those first few months,” Daenerys was going on in a whisper, “I couldn’t get him out of the crib.” She gave a small chuckle, fingers combing through her son’s hair. “He was the smallest of the three but, he was the gentlest too. And he loved Rhaego. I think, because he was smallest, and Rhaego was smaller, he somehow knew he needed extra protection.” Jon nodded, doing everything in his power not to reach out and put his arm around her. She had walked away from him on the ship when he squeezed her hand, silently asking her to stay. He knew she was mourning the dragon but he wondered if anything else was holding her back from whatever it was that was sparking between them.

“Jon what are we going to do?” Dany asked him after several minutes of neither of them speaking. For a moment, he didn’t know whether she was talking about the war or _them_ so he stayed silent. “I know that the war against Cersei is miniscule compared to what waits for us in the North but…”   _Oh._ The war then. However she had said   _us._ As ill timed and foolish and confusing as whatever   _this_ was, Jon still dared to hope. “…but my people in Dorne and the smallfolk in the Reach… Cersei would slaughter them all the moment I send my armies North.”

“I know,” Jon got out, his next words difficult to say, but he knew it would be necessary if Cersei didn’t cooperate. “If she doesn’t agree to the truce…I think we need to go with your first plan.” Dany’s eyes grew wide at this.

“But you said—”

“I know. I know it’s a risk. Especially for you and especially after what you’ve just lost but…it’s the best thing to do. It’s the quickest way to win the war with minimal casualties. Tyrion knows where the rest of the wildfire is. Varys can get word to his little birds. With the castle evacuated and the wildfire moved, you can attack with only Cersei and those loyal to her in harm’s way. And with her gone, Euron Greyjoy will have no one backing him. We can make an offer to the ironborn, whoever turns him in or brings us his head will be named Lord of Pyke. Likely we’d get his head as they believe in paying the iron price for their holdings, which I am completely fine with.” Dany gave him just the ghost of a smile at this.    

“If…if it comes to that,” Dany began, “Will you come with me?” she asked hesitantly. Jon looked up from Aryanna who had her thumb in her mouth - a habit carried over from when she was a baby but only now manifested in her sleep. Dany’s eyebrows knitted together in concern.

Jon hoped the smile that spread across his own face wasn’t too revealing of the relief he felt at her question. _She wanted him with her._ And that thought was more comforting than any other. “I told you. You are my queen. Wherever you go, I go too.” When she didn’t reply he added, “I want to.”

 

They were to be leaving for White Harbor in a few hours and Aryanna had already done her packing and washing and was dressed, ready to go, and incredibly bored. She would have played with Rhaego but his mama had forced him to repack his things as he hadn’t done a very good job the first time.

Aryanna and Ghost wandered the castle for a time, not heading in any general direction, when they happened upon Queen Dany’s solar where Ghost nosed his way through the cracked door. “Ghost!” Aryanna scolded but the direwolf pushed through anyway and she heard the queen and Missandei laugh and greet him.

“I think he wants a treat,” Queen Dany told Aryanna when she came in, Ghost sitting in front of her, staring at the meat and cheese tray on the table. Aryanna smiled sheepishly.

“Papa says it’s my fault he begs like a common dog now because I always give him treats under the table.” She scratched Ghost behind the ears and Queen Dany handed him a piece of some type of sausage which he took from her hand gently.

“Well, he’s still a good boy to me,” Queen Dany murmured patting Ghost on the head. “Aryanna, do you know if Rhaego is packed yet? Packed properly, I mean.”

“He told me to either help him or leave because I was distracting him so I left.” At this, Missandei and Queen Dany burst into a fit of giggles.

“Smart girl,” Missandei told her approvingly and went back to her knitting. She appeared to be making a cap, but Aryanna couldn’t be sure though she would definitely need one once they got closer to White Harbor and it started snowing again.

“Well, you can stay and visit with us for as long as you like, Aryanna,” Queen Dany told her and patted her own lap. Aryanna crawled up and Queen Dany wrapped her arms around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She loved when the queen held her like this. While it was nice sitting in her papa’s lap too, he always had his armor on which was hard and smelled funny. Queen Dany always wore soft wool dresses and hummed and liked to run her fingers through her hair, as she was doing now. Suddenly Aryanna had an idea.

“Queen Dany, do you…do you know how to braid hair?” Aryanna asked hopefully. The queen chuckled and Missandei said, “Of course she does. She sometimes braids mine.”

“Would you like me to braid your hair Aryanna?” Queen Dany asked softly and Aryanna nodded, positively squirming with delight. Aunty Sansa had braided her hair everyday when they were in Winterfell but papa didn’t know how to braid hair and always ended up tangling hers so she stopped asking him to try.

It was a nice peaceful afternoon, especially sitting with Missandei and Queen Dany who were talking about the meeting they had attended in the Dragonpit of King’s Landing three days before. Aryanna tried to follow the conversation but she didn’t know who they were talking about and it all sounded so complicated so she just sat while Queen Dany braided her hair and occasionally munched on the cheese and meat tray.

“What were his specific words?” Missandei was saying in a strange voice, almost as if she were trying not to move her lips too much.

“‘Has it occured to you she might not have been a reliable source of information?’” Missandei sucked her lips between her teeth, her eyes alight with mischief.

“And what did you say in response?”

“I changed the subject! I had no idea how to react. I mean, I know he likely said it because he was trying to make me feel better—”

“Seems to me like a roundabout way of asking if he can try to prove you wrong.” Queen Dany burst into giggles again.

“Missandei!”

“He’s right though. I’ve always thought it was an odd belief to hold anyway. I mean, you have Rhaego, your cycles are regular.”

“And when I was with Daario, nothing happened.”

“Could have been him.” Queen Dany shrugged and sighed. She sounded sad to Aryanna and she wished she knew why so she could do something to make her feel better. Queen Dany leaned in then and placed a kiss on top of her head, hugging her extra tight. “So do you think you will?” Missandei asked again in that sly voice.

“Will what?”

“Let him try to prove you and that witch wrong.”

“Missandei!”

“I think you should.” Missandei gave Aryanna the briefest of glances before she added, “Practically a foregone conclusion anyway.” Queen Dany hummed absentmindedly, continuing to braid Aryanna’s hair. She still didn’t know what the Queen and Missandei were talking about but it didn’t matter. She just loved sitting with them and enjoying their company.

 

When Jon walked into Dany’s solar in search of his daughter, his heart stopped and his breath caught at the sight before him. The sun was streaming in through the window behind them, casting them in a gentle light. Ghost was at their feet, laying on his back looking like the big lap dog he was. And Dany… His Queen braided his daughter’s hair with a look on her face so serene and contented, he almost felt guilty for breaking the moment, yet at the same time feeling strangely blessed to have happened upon it. Not for the first time Jon pictured waking up to a scene like this every morning, walking over to give them both a kiss on the cheek and ruffle Rhaego’s hair, Aryanna calling Dany _mama,_ his daughter and Rhaego in Winterfell together throwing snowballs at him as he walked by, stealing away with Daenerys after the children fell asleep to make love to her until the sun came up—

“Here for the refreshments, Lord Snow?” Missandei smiled, setting her knitting needles aside briefly to take a sip of wine. Jon blinked the longing out of his eyes and refocused.   

“Not specifically for that but don’t mind if I do.” Jon grabbed few pieces of cheese and sausage and nudged Aryanna’s feet with his boot as he ate. “Are you all packed little wolf?”

Aryanna nodded. “How does my hair look papa?” she asked looking up and Dany’s eyes roved over his face as well as if asking for his approval of the job she had done.

“You look as beautiful as our Queen,” Jon told her honestly, his stomach fluttering at the way Dany smiled and quickly averted her eyes, a warm blush creeping up her neck. “Rhaego’s finished packing by the way.” He cleared his throat as Dany turned back around. “He went out onto the cliffs to say goodbye to his brothers.”

“We’re not leaving them behind!” Aryanna began wide-eyed, getting ready to launch into what would undoubtedly been a very entertaining argument but Jon put up a hand to stop her.

“No we’re not. But they’ll be flying closer to the coast I imagine so we won’t get to see them much over the next few weeks.”

“Oh,” Aryanna answered settling back into Dany’s lap.

“They’d miss you too much if we left them behind,” Dany reassured her coaxing a face splitting grin from his daughter. It almost wasn’t fair how perfect the two looked sitting together. And it only cemented things for Jon further.

 

Jon bent down to give Aryanna a kiss on the forehead, tucking the covers in underneath her. Ghost gave a groan at all the movement but otherwise remained settled in next to her, his daughter’s very own living furnace. “Where are you sleeping papa?” she asked.

“My cabin’s just across the hall silly. The door on the left,” he answered. Rhaego perked at this and sat up in his bed.

“Are you in there too mama?” he asked innocently and Dany’s and Jon’s jaws both nearly fell to the floor at his words.

“No!” Dany told her son immediately. “Why would you think that?” Aryanna frowned.

“Well, we’re sharing a room. We thought you would too.” Jon coughed, trying to recover as quickly as possible.

“Queen Dany needs her privacy,” Jon explained to his daughter as evenly as he could. “And I’d likely keep her awake with all my snoring.” Rhaego snorted with laughter.

“Mama snores too,” he giggled, Dany’s mouth popping open for a second time at her son’s confession.

“I do not you little snitch,” she shot back and tickled him mercilessly until he finally, breathlessly retracted his words.

Jon and Dany bid their children goodnight and shut the door closed behind them, Jon’s heart pounding. He wanted to tell her how he felt, out loud, once and for all, not just hold her hand like he had back on the ship from Eastwatch, not like in the Dragonpit when he used vague words that made her smile but didn’t at all come close to what she really meant to him. He wanted to kiss her, to push her up against the cabin door, lock her away for the night and show her just how much he wanted her, needed her. He wanted to—

“Goodnight,” Dany said in an awkwardly high voice after they had stood staring silently at each other for far too long. And before Jon could gather his wits, she was inside her cabin with the door shut, Targaryen sigil glaring at him mockingly. _Ughh._

Inside his own cabin Jon removed his armor, utterly at a loss. _Fuck._ What was he to do? He had thought for some time she felt as he did but a door in the face said otherwise. Then again, Jon had always heard women kept their emotions more closely guarded than men, especially when it came to love. And from the stories he had heard of her from her friends and advisors, she had been just as unlucky in love as he had.

 _Fuck it._ If she rejected him then sobeit but Jon couldn’t stay cooped up in this damn cabin for another moment longer without knowing the truth. Standing outside her door, he took a deep heaving breath before knocking softly, praying the children wouldn’t hear him.

When their eyes met, his breath caught _._ She was beautiful. Her hair down from the braids she had worn just minutes before, falling in soft waves around her slightly stunned face. Her mouth popped open just the slightest and it was all he could look at, everything else in his field of vision blackening as all the things he wanted to do to that mouth flashed across his mind. His heart was racing again, embarrassingly quick and he tried to slow it by taking a deep breath but it didn’t help.   _Please._

Without saying a word or asking why he was there, Dany pushed the door open wider for him to come in. _Fuck. Yes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know what's coming next chapter *hem hem* You know what to do.


	5. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany finally gets exactly what she wants.
> 
> Oh BTW sorry guys about the position in the tag. I literally don't know what is going on. I was having issues when I had all the chapters as a draft so I deleted all the chapters and just started adding them day of and it's still not right. I've changed it to tomorrow's date (for me in CA) and it hasn't changed positions. I can't explain this phenomenon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's a bit of a time jump between last chapter and this one. We're finally at Winterfell so Jon can find out about his heritage!  
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> Just kidding.

He reached for her as he kicked the door closed, hands cradling her neck and tipping her face up to meet his, mouth hungrily seeking hers for an all consuming, feverish kiss. Dany felt an instant rush of wetness dampen her smallclothes as she clung to Jon, her body instantly much too warm underneath all the layers she wore to shield her from the winter winds.

Too soon the sweet, full lips acquainting themselves with hers were replaced by light caresses of warm breath as Jon pulled away, panting hard. His darkened eyes searched hers, checking, _Is this okay? Are we really doing this? Should we stop? Should I leave?_ He asked her silently, nervously, though nothing could have taken her away from him at that point. Dany no longer had time for that nonsense. For the briefest of seconds, Dany’s mind wandered back to the top of The Wall, heart aching, waiting for him to return when all hope was lost. Then in sequence it shot to the ship, innocently trying to pull away and his hand gripping hers harder, how she had panicked at all it implied. But now she was in his arms, ready for whatever the coming storm brought them. His scent filling her nose was home and his body against hers was bliss. She fell in love with Jon Snow the second she set eyes on him and every moment after, he continued to prove to her that he had been worth it.

She pulled him to her again, already missing the breathless, crushing feeling of his body against hers. Gods his mouth was delicious, teeth nipping at her lips, tongue thrusting wantonly into her mouth, lips sucking on hers, making them tender and swollen. If he didn’t have his arms around her, she knew she would have melted through the floorboards and into the sea.

Before her lust-addled brain could process what was happening, Jon had her backed up against the cold cabin wall, growling as he abandoned her lips to pay homage to her neck, the soft caresses and fire licking her belly from the inside making her pant and groan.

With shaking hands she explored under his tunic, fingers dancing with excitement at getting to touch him for the first time. She noted with interest that everything about Jon’s body was hard. Arms and legs thick with rigid muscle. His belly split into six distinct shapely plains, marred with poorly knitted together, angry red valleys, seven in total. The physical evidence of his kind heart and sacrificing nature. But even though she knew the story of how those scars got there, knew that for two days, Jon Snow lay cold and dead, there was no denying how very much alive he was now, his skin hot under her touch reminding her of the dragons. And that _other_ part of him, stiff and straining, grinding itself against her, the friction it caused delightful and dizzying.

Briefly they separated so she could pull the shirt up over his head, his curls bouncing every which way as she did. When his lips found hers again, it was with renewed passion, pouring every ounce of love and desire he could into the kiss and she drank it up as if finding an oasis in a desert.

He fumbled with finding the ties to her cleverly designed dress until she guided his hands to them, both of them working to unlace and strip the dress off of her. Once she stepped out of it, Jon sank to his knees, kissing his way along her slip from her breasts to her hips, yanking off her trousers and boots and tossing it all haphazardly under her desk. Without getting to his feet, he reached up and slid his fingers under the straps of her slip and tugged it down until it pooled and joined the rest of their discarded clothing on the floor.

Standing above him while he knelt on the floor, Dany felt exposed and vulnerable, but not in a way she disliked. The way he was looking up at her, admiring every curve and crevice of her skin made her feel like a giddy maiden. It must have shown on her face because Jon’s answering mischievous smile disarmed her completely, wanting to know what it meant and why he still hadn’t got to his feet yet.

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Jon ran a hand up her leg, massaging her calf and leaning forward to place a delicate kiss on her knee. Dany didn’t know why, but her mouth popped open in a gasp. Pleased with her reaction, Jon lowered his gaze and continued, rubbing and kissing, occasionally sucking mouthfuls of skin between his teeth to bite her lightly. The higher he kissed and rubbed and bit, the more he traveled inward as well, until Dany realized his ultimate goal. _Oh yes, please._

But just before he reached her small clothes, he let go of her right leg and moved to the left, starting at her knee again and smirking at her huff of disappointment. Dany would have rolled her eyes but she didn’t want to miss a moment of watching him worship her. Never had anyone paid such sweet and focused attention to her before, not even Daario.

Once Jon had finally made his way up her inner thigh, he lifted his long feathery lashes to look at her again, his dark gaze making her breath catch. Slowly, frustratingly slowly, he leaned in to place a kiss on her mound through her silky smallclothes and Dany bit her lip to keep from making a sound. Another kiss, this one longer, his mouth opening against her teasingly. Another kiss, and Dany’s eyes fluttered closed and she felt something warm and wet begin to tease her through the fabric. _Gods, his tongue._

As he licked and nipped at her, his hands began to slide up the sides of her legs and Dany braced herself against the wall, hoping his hands were traveling with a purpose and that he would finally remove the delicate silk that separated her from his mouth. His fingers teased the band of fabric hugging her hips, lightly tickling the skin as his mouth continued to stoke the fiery ache between her legs. _Damn him,_ Dany thought though she was wound much too tight to even consider doing the same back to him. Instead, she showed him exactly what she wanted and slipped her own fingers down her sides, under the band of her smallclothes, her lips pursing when she saw Jon smirk. _Alright my queen,_ he said with his eyes, pulling the offending garment down her legs at last.

When his tongue finally met bare, slippery flesh, Dany groaned loudly, only cutting off the sound when he squeezed her behind in warning. She knew she had to be quiet. Knew the children were just across the hall. But oh _what Jon Snow could do with that tongue._ Dany shifted her weight to one foot, giving him better access to her, bracing one hand on the desk next to her and the other threading through his curls, trying, _trying_ to hold back, wanting to make this last. But when Jon’s lips suctioned around her, all coherent thought and all control rolled off her skin in waves and Dany cried out, pushing up on her tiptoes, head knocking back against the wall as her core pulsed with release. Jon’s mouth let go of her with a lewd wet sucking sound and he nipped her thighs while Dany steadied herself and her breathing returned to normal. When she opened her eyes, Jon gave her a final wicked smile then gripped her around the hips and stood. Dany clung to his firm shoulders and giggled as he plopped her down on the bed and immediately descended on her like a wild wolf with his prey. Dany stretched languidly underneath him, her limbs heavy and tingling, but she would have been lying if she said she didn’t crave more of what he had just given her.

As their mouths mated and attacked each other, Dany boldly pushed her hands down the backside of his trousers, taking handfuls of that delightfully round and taut behind of his, pressing him closer, wanting all of him, everywhere, all at once. Jon let his hands roam too, first cupping her breasts, rolling each nipple between thumb and index finger until they were firm and tender from his torment. He slid his hands lower still, returning to her swollen, wet mound and with little preamble, thrust two fingers into her dripping heat making her cry out at the blissful invasion.

He cursed and nipped her neck, burrowing his fingers into her causing the thick pleasure building in her belly to radiate out through every limb with each push and pull, so different from his mouth but just as deliciously debilitating. She could feel it in her toes, her thighs, her arms, her breasts. He took a nipple into that plush mouth of his and sucked hard, making her groan and adding to the sweet burn, the scruff of his beard turning her pale skin rosy and sensitive but she didn’t care. She needed it. Needed him. But she didn’t want another release to happen without him feeling it too. She wanted him inside her, filling her up, losing himself in her as she lost herself with him. And who knew, perhaps he and Missandei would be right and his seed would quicken and her fertility wouldn’t have been sacrificed so her late husband could live for a few extra days.

She wanted all of it, the family, the future, and most urgently she wanted him and the hardness pressing into her thigh. Dany reached down and palmed him, appreciating his shape and girth. But he was just as impatient for her. She’d barely been able to tease him properly before he snapped his hips away from her reach, tugging his trousers down with one hand and kicking them off desperately, lining his body up with hers.

They stared at each other a moment before he entered her and Dany knew this was always inevitable. From the minute she learned his name, first trying it on her tongue in front of her councilors and the red witch that night back on Dragonstone and then trying it privately later on alone in her chamber after tucking Rhaego into bed. She would have been lying if she said she had not entertained the fantasy of him, a monarch chosen by his people, just as she had been, a lone parent left to look after his child, just as she was, close to the last of his line because of stupid mistakes and the greed of others, just like she suffered.

Before even meeting and before even realizing or able to admit it to herself, Dany had poured a measurable amount of hope in this King in the North and from that first time he smiled at her in the dragonglass cave after making a quip about their respective children, she had been utterly undone. As their bodies melted together, Dany gasping and arching her back at the length of him caught in her tight, wet walls, she felt whole, full, complete. His kisses made her dizzy, his sweet touches and the way he held her carefully but possessively made her groan, and his thrusts took her to the very edge of all rational thought… but it was adoring and whispered words in her ear that softened her and made her feel cherished and precious and loved.

 _This_ act, _this_ moment wasn’t about release or any kind of finality but a beginning of _them_ and _us_ and _family,_ yet when it happened again, it was still consuming and agonizing and shattering, wringing her tight, then letting go all at once, flooding her insides with warmth and light. And Jon quickly followed, his beautiful face hovering over hers, foreheads pressed together, arms wrapped around each other, and her name repeatedly spilling from his lips as he emptied himself into her, the dull pulses of him as his seed bathed her insides giving her a singular kind of thrill and furthered the possessiveness she felt over him.  

With one final kiss to her forehead, he rested his head on her chest and she ran her fingers through his soft curls, both too tired and content to arrange themselves in another position before the gentle rocking of the ship beneath them and sweet satiation lulled them into a peaceful sleep.

 

_“Maybe they thought since they both snored, the other person’s snoring would cancel theirs out so that neither of them would snore anymore.”_

_“Maybe they got cold and thought it would be better to sleep next to each other than by themselves.”_

_“If they were cold, why’d they take all their clothes off and leave them by the door?”_

_“Well you don’t sleep in your boots and trousers do you?”_

_“No but—”_

“EGH!” Jon gasped awake and Aryanna and Rhaego jumped back from the bed giggling furiously. _“What in seven hells?”_ Jon swore and Dany shot up beside him, mindful enough to clutch the sheet and furs to her chest as she did so.

“How in the world did you two get in her?” she exclaimed, breathing just as hard as Jon. She leaned back into him and Jon automatically wrapped his arms around her, immediately cursing inwardly at the familiar move in front of their children, even if they were already caught.

“Through the door silly,” Aryanna informed them. _Fuck._ He had forgotten to bolt it after kicking it closed last night.    

“Rhaego, what have I told you about knocking first before barging into a room?” his mother scolded but Rhaego just smiled, right along with Aryanna.

“We _did_ knock but you didn’t answer. We went to King Jon’s room first but he wasn’t in there so we thought maybe he had come in here.”

“And what pray tell was so urgent that you couldn’t wait for us to wake up on our own time, hmm?” Jon asked, his irritation dissipating as they both climbed up on the bed, their bubbly little smiles infectious.

“Well, we were awake and we wanted to break our fast but we didn’t want to go without you or mama,” Rhaego explained. Dany turned to look at Jon over her shoulder, her eyes soft, knowing and Jon understood. They had woken up once early that morning and made love again, afterward spending a few minutes before they both fell back asleep to wonder aloud at just how they would approach this with the children. How much to tell them, when to tell them. Now it was simply a non issue.

“Well, if you’d give us a few moments to get dressed, we’ll meet you up there,” Dany told them but at this Rhaego pulled a face.

“Why are you naked?” he asked, seemingly genuinely curious and Jon could see Dany’s neck and cheeks flush instantly.

“We’re not going to sleep in our boots or trousers, are we?” Jon jumped in before Dany could stumble for an explanation.

“See I told you,” Aryanna gloated hopping down off the bed, Rhaego following behind, still suspicious but saying nothing as they left the cabin, closing the door behind them.

“Well…” Daenerys trailed off, letting out a long breath. Jon chuckled. “They’re not great at keeping secrets so—”

“So everyone on the ship likely already knows,” Jon finished for her. Daenerys smiled softly.

“I don’t care.”

“Good.” Jon leaned into her tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Neither do I.”

  



	6. Proposals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaego and Aryanna form a plan. Dany finally learns the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little bit of a wink in this chapter to a similar moment in ATS for those of you reading it. Hopefully this isn't an overload of fluff (sorry-not-sorry) :D

It was freezing the morning they landed at White Harbor but they could waste no time complaining about it. Many of the Unsullied would stayed behind to deal with their cargo and a smaller party was to go on ahead. They were to meet the Dothraki on the King’s Road before they reached Winterfell to prevent any issues with communication - though Jon had already written to Sansa, Bran, and Arya explaining the plan.

While their horses were being saddled and a handful of wagons prepared, Jon and Dany met with the Manderlys, Lord Wyman being particularly gracious and welcoming, even if they only stayed in the castle to break their fast.

Once the small party travelling ahead was ready, they ventured outside to mount up, poor Rhaego shivering despite the cap Missandei had knitted him and the fur cloak he wore.

Aryanna beamed. “I’m of the blood of the First Men so the cold doesn’t bother me!” To prove her point she flopped down into the snow and began flapping her arms and legs back and forth. “Look, it’s an angel!”

Rhaego frowned. “Well I’m the blood of the dragonlords of Old Valyria…and the Dothraki horselords of the Great Grass Sea!”

“It’s not a competition Rhaego,” Aryanna scoffed dismissively making both Jon and Dany bark with laughter.

“Isn’t everything a competition with you, my wild wolf?” Jon asked as he scooped her up and set her on top of his horse.

“Only the things I want to be,” Aryanna answered matter of factly, making Jon laugh again as he settled in behind her.  

“I’ll keep you warm sweetheart,” Dany told her son, wrapping her cloak about them both. “If we ride fast, we’ll be there in a few days and you’ll be able to stay extra warm in the castle.”

“Why’s that?” Rhaego asked curiously, his teeth no longer chattering with his mother sitting behind him, her dragon blood warming him up.

“Because Winterfell was built on the hot springs!” Aryanna explained excitedly. Jon grinned, always enjoying how proud she was of her Stark heritage. “The water flows through the walls so it’s much warmer than any other castle in the whole North. Right papa?” she asked for confirmation.

“That’s right. And if the weather keeps fair and we stick to a moderate pace, we’ll be there in no time.” At this news Rhaego perked up slightly. Jon couldn’t blame him. Daenerys had told him of all the moving around they had done in Essos after Rhaego was born and when she was little herself. After they defeated the Night King Jon wanted to make sure they both had a permanent place to call home. Whether they settled in Winterfell or King’s Landing or Dragonstone or someplace else, he wanted to give that to them. He wanted to make them both as happy as they had made him and Aryanna.

 

Aryanna lept off the horse before it had even come to a full stop, far too eager at the site of her aunt Arya to care about her papa grumbling behind her about her being a  _ bloody wild child _ .

“My little ginger wolf!” aunt Arya exclaimed scooping her into her arms for a rib-breaking hug. Aunt Arya was much stronger than most ladies Aryanna had ever met so her hugs tended to leave her a little breathless. But at the sight of her aunty Sansa, Aryanna squirmed out of Arya’s clutch and rushed to her too, inhaling deeply having missed the way aunty Sansa always smelled of lemon cakes and biscuits.

“Aryanna, would you like to meet your uncle Bran?” aunty Sansa asked gently. Aryanna looked behind aunty Sansa and noticed the young man in the chair with wheels for the first time. Uncle Bran gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes but Aryanna didn’t mind. She knew from the letters aunty Sansa had sent them on Dragonstone that uncle Bran was much changed since he had come back from beyond The Wall and Aryanna thought she would be too if she possessed the kind of powers that uncle Bran did.

“Hello uncle Bran,” Aryanna greeted quietly, walking up to him.

“Hello Aryanna,” uncle Bran replied. For a moment Aryanna didn’t quite know what to do and it seemed uncle Bran didn’t either. But then Aryanna shook her head, feeling quite silly. Uncle Bran was family and that was not how you greeted family. Before he could protest or anyone could stop her, Aryanna climbed up into his lap and gave uncle Bran the strongest hug she could and told him, “I’m so glad you came back to Winterfell uncle Bran.”

She hopped back down and uncle Bran blinked a few times, staring at her strangely. “I’m glad I came back to Winterfell too Aryanna.” He gave her another smile but this one seemed much more genuine.

“You must be Rhaego,” aunty Sansa said to him as the rest of the party slowly made their way up to the castle gates.

“H-hello Lady S-sansa,” Rhaego greeted through chattering teeth. Aunty Sansa laughed which Aryanna thought was just a little rude but she didn’t say anything.

“I’ve got something for you Rhaego,” aunty Sansa told him. She turned to one of her handmaidens who was standing next to her and took a very thick and warm looking cloak out of her hands. “Turn around, let’s see if I got your size right.” Rhaego spun around enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up. “It’s a tiny bit long but you’ll grow into it.” Aunty Sansa helped Rhaego extricate himself from his old cloak which was much thinner and put the new cloak over him. “Better?” aunty Sansa asked and Rhaego nodded and hugged her.

“Thank you Lady Sansa!”

“Sansa,” uncle Bran called, “Perhaps now would be a good time to take the children up to the keep to get them settled in and washed up. And Arya can introduce the Queen to those in the castle. Sam and I need a few moments alone with Jon.” Aunty Sansa’s smile faltered but she nodded. Papa and Queen Dany had just walked up and papa frowned but didn’t disagree with uncle Bran. Aryanna wondered why she and Rhaego couldn’t be there for whatever they needed to talk with papa about.

“I’ll see you both at dinner,” papa told her, giving her a kiss on the forehead and ruffling Rhaego’s hair. He gave Queen Dany a brief nod in farewell also. “Shouldn’t take too long,” he reassured her.

“You Grace,” aunt Arya motioned for Queen Dany to follower her and aunty Sansa picked Aryanna up and took Rhaego by the hand so they had no choice but to leave papa, uncle Bran, and Sam at the gates.

“What does uncle Bran need to talk to papa about?” Aryanna asked aunty Sansa immediately once they were inside the keep.

“Nothing for you to worry about my sweet,” aunty Sansa reassured her.

 

But as they days wore on, Aryanna and Rhaego were quite certain they had a lot to worry about. Despite the incredibly cheerful atmosphere around the castle with everyone reuniting with old friends and making new ones - Sandor Clegane and aunty Sansa and aunt Arya, aunt Arya and Gendry Waters, Gendry getting to meet Shireen who was his cousin, Rhaego discovering Shireen  _ and _ Gendry were also  _ his _ cousins! - Aryanna and Rhaego noticed their mama and papa had been incredibly grumpy lately. And what was stranger, they were hardly ever in the same room together, let alone spoke to each other. It just didn’t make any sense.

“Why’s your papa and my mama so grumpy all the time?” Rhaego asked Aryanna when they were sitting in the godswood one day building snowcastles while Ghost hunted for winter hares. 

“I don’t know,” Aryanna admitted with a frown. “But it seems they both got grumpy as soon as we got here, didn’t it? Does your mama not like being in Winterfell.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Rhaego pursed his lips thinking while he swept excess snow off a castle turret. “We move around all the time anyway and this is by far the best castle we’ve lived in. And aunty Sansa and aunt Arya are very nice.” Aunty Sansa and aunt Arya had told Rhaego he could call them that instead of Lady Sansa and Lady Arya and Aryanna had liked that suggestion just as much as Rhaego did. It made them feel like family. 

“Do you think we should ask them what’s wrong?” Aryanna queried. Rhaego shrugged.

“Grown ups usually don’t like being asked what’s wrong and they never answer when you ask anyway,” he informed her and Aryanna frowned but nodded in agreement. 

They continued building for a while when an idea Rhaego had had before but kept forgetting to ask Aryanna about suddenly came to mind. 

“Aryanna do you ever think…” Rhaego began not quite sure if what he was about to say sounded silly or not. But at Aryanna’s kind yet curious expression, he decided he could ask her. She was his best friend after all. “Do you ever think…well, you have a papa but your mama’s gone. And…and I have a mama but my papa’s gone. Do you ever think…well maybe we could share? Could King Jon be my papa and my mama could be yours too?” Rhaego felt his cheeks flush at the question but Aryanna smiled so brightly he knew his idea was something she must have thought of too.

“Of course!” She jumped forward knocking over their snowcastle and hugged him tightly but Rhaego didn’t care. He was just glad she felt the same way. “Should we…well, we would have to ask them first, wouldn’t we?” Aryanna asked, brow furrowed in concentration. Rhaego scratched his chin like he sometimes saw Ser Barristan do when he thought about things. 

“They might not be the right people to ask,” Rhaego admitted. “We should talk to someone first. Someone smart.” Aryanna smiled, knowing just the person.

 

“Shireen?” Rhaego asked hesitantly but Shireen looked up from her book  _ Legends of the Long Night _ with her usual smile on her face. 

“What is it cousin?” she asked and Aryanna noticed Rhaego’s shoulders relax a bit. Shireen was really the only person they knew they could ask and she wouldn’t think they were silly and Aryanna knew she wouldn’t tell anyone if they asked her not to.

“Is it possible for…well, is it possible for someone’s parents, someone  _ else’s  _ parents, to become…your parents? I mean…well not  _ you _ specifically but…” They had no idea how to word their question but Aryanna thought Rhaego had done a good job. They didn’t want to say they were asking about their  _ own _ parents just yet so they had to keep the question vague. 

“You mean like mother and father-in-laws?” Shireen answered, shutting her book and sitting up. Aryanna frowned, thinking. She thought she had heard that term before but she couldn’t remember where or why.

“What’s a father-in-law?” Rhaego asked curiously as Shireen patted her bed for Aryanna and Rhaego to sit with her. They both climbed up on the bed curious.

“Well, when two people get married, the other person’s parents become their parents-in-law.” Rhaego and Aryanna turned toward each other with raised eyebrows. Shireen noted their confusion and went on. “So for instance…” Shireen paused and a mischievous smile crossed her face. “If cousin Gendry and Lady Arya get married… Well, no, actually that’s not a great example because both their parents have passed away. But if Aryanna’s grandfather  _ were _ alive, then Lord Stark would be Gendry’s father-in-law.” Aryanna pursed her lips, still a little confused. “Well actually, all of Lady Arya’s family becomes Gendry’s family, if they married. So King Jon would become Gendry’s brother-in-law, since he’s Arya’s brother. Lady Sansa would become his sister-in-law—”

“And Lady Catelyn who was aunt Arya’s mother would have been Gendry’s mother-in-law!” Aryanna exclaimed catching on. 

“Exactly,” Shireen smiled proudly.   

“Wait,” Rhaego said turning to Aryanna. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was thinking. “So when I get married, my mama will be mother-in-law to my wife?” They  _ were _ thinking the same thing!

“Now you’ve got it,” Shireen told them clapping her hands together. 

“You’re brilliant Shireen!” Aryanna told her and lunged forward to give Shireen a hug, making her giggle. 

Once they were outside Shireen’s room, Rhaego turned to her and gave her a hug nearly as strong as aunt Arya did. When he pulled away he cleared his throat and bowed. 

“My lady,” he told her offering her his arm. Aryanna grabbed on enthusiastically. “Do you think they’ll tell us no?” he asked her as they walked out of the keep.

“Maybe. We might have to explain why,” she told him honestly. 

“Mmm. Well, it’s worth a shot, right?” he asked and Aryanna nodded. “I’ll go get King Jon. You go get my mama. Meet you back at the Godswood in…”

“Five minutes?” 

“See you there!”

Aryanna took off in the direction of the great keep and Rhaego took off in the direction of armory. She knocked on aunty Sansa’s door three times and stood and waited patiently for Missandei to open the door. 

“There you are little wolf, I had wondered where you got to,” Queen Dany told her as Aryanna bounded into the room. Queen Dany, Missandei, aunty Sansa and Gilly were all sitting about in the solar, Missandei knitting, something Aryanna at first thought was a sock but it was much too tiny to be, maybe a doll’s sock she thought; aunty Gilly was sitting with a book in her lap, concentrating hard on the words, her lips moving as she read silently; aunty Sansa was writing at her little coffee table, looking very silly sitting on the floor but it was her room after all so Aryanna figured she could do whatever she liked; and Queen Dany sat on the floor also, with little Sam in her lap letting him read to her. Aryanna didn’t know why aunty Gilly still called him  _ little _ Sam as he was now taller than Aryanna but he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Queen Dany, would you come with me somewhere?” Aryanna asked nervously, hoping Queen Dany would agree without asking too many questions.

“Can I come?” little Sam asked at once. “Is Rhaego going to be there?” 

“Maybe in a little while Sam,” Aryanna told him earnestly, hoping he wouldn’t be angry with her for spending so much time with Rhaego. They had been friends when they were babies at Castle Black but that was so long ago and they had been so young, she barely remembered it. “But I just wanted to ask Queen Dany something.” He sighed and nodded, probably a little disappointed with her but he didn’t say anything. 

“What is it sweetling?” Queen Dany asked as little Sam hopped out of her lap and settled on his stomach next to the fireplace to continue reading. 

“Can we go for a walk?” Aryanna asked and Queen Dany smiled, holding out her hand so Aryanna could grasp it and they made their way out of aunty Sansa’s solar and down to the Godswood. 

“What’s all this about Aryanna?” Queen Dany asked as they walked through the snow.

“Well, it’s something I wanted to ask you.  _ We _ wanted to ask you. Rhaego and I. Wanted to ask you and papa.” Queen Dany stopped walking and stared down at Aryanna, her eyes suddenly angry. Or maybe just upset. She couldn’t tell and it made her instantly nervous. 

“Your papa’s going to be there too?” Queen Dany asked, her voice irritated. She tried to let go of Aryanna’s hand so Aryanna was forced to do the thing she almost never did to get her way but knew this was too important not to. She made herself start to cry. “Oh alright alright!” Queen Dany told her hurriedly and took her hand again and Aryanna’s tears dried instantly and she skipped the rest of the way to the weirwood tree where papa and Rhaego were already sitting, papa drawing shapes in the snow with a stick.

Queen Dany looked at papa like she had looked at Aryanna a few moments ago, somewhere between angry and upset and again Aryanna wondered what they were fighting about. Papa didn’t look angry but he did look very sad. Maybe after she and Rhaego told them their plan, they could ask their parents what they were upset over. 

“So what’s this news you have for us?” papa asked quickly and matter of factly and Queen Dany raised an eyebrow waiting for their answer. She and Rhaego looked at each other and Aryanna nodded at him in encouragement. 

“Aryanna and I want to get married,” Rhaego announced proudly. “To each other.” Aryanna thought Queen Dany’s eyes might bulge out of their sockets and papa accidentally broke the stick he was making patterns in the snow with.

“Married?” Queen Dany asked. Aryanna and Rhaego nodded. Papa’s brow furrowed and Aryanna noticed he was staring at Rhaego rather oddly, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you…in love with each other?” Queen Dany added. Aryanna pursed her lips and thought.

“Well, not really,” Rhaego answered honestly. 

“We’re friends,” Aryanna pointed out. 

“Do you need to secure a military alliance?” papa asked. Rhaego and Aryanna exchanged confused looks.

“Not that I know of,” Rhaego shook his head.

“Did anyone say you  _ had _ to get married for some reason?” Queen Dany asked.  

“No, of course not,” Aryanna answered confused. 

“Rhaego didn’t dishonor you in any way, did he?” papa said narrowing his eyes at Rhaego and Queen Dany glared at him. 

“I don’t think so!” she told papa quickly, wondering what in the world he was talking about and why both their parents looked so serious. 

“We want to get married because…” Rhaego began and he looked to Aryanna, asking silently for her permission to tell them the real answer. She nodded. “...well, because we were talking with cousin Shireen.”

“And Shireen said that when you marry, you get to have the other person’s parents as your own.” Both papa and Queen Dany’s mouths popped open at Aryanna’s words.

“If we married, then mama, you’d be Aryanna’s mother-in-law,” Rhaego explained. “And…King Jon could be my father-in-law. Since I don’t have a papa and Aryanna doesn’t have a mama.” Papa and Queen Dany continued to stare at them both in shock and suddenly a very sad thought entered Aryanna’s head. 

“Unless…” her throat grew tight and her eyes stung, hoping it wasn’t true but knowing she had to ask. “Unless…you wouldn’t want me as a daughter-in-law Queen Dany.” 

 

Dany’s eyes stung with tears watching her son and Aryanna as both their faces silently pleaded with her and Jon for this. Oh if only Aryanna knew how much Dany loved her. Everything about her. From her thick northern accent so like her father’s and her bouncy ginger curls, to her quick wit and her gentle and thoughtful nature. She was everything Dany had ever wanted in a daughter. And for a while, Dany thought…

With a sniffle, Dany enveloped Aryanna in her arms, kissing her cheek and squeezing her tight. Damn Jon Snow for abandoning her when they arrived at Winterfell. Damn him for not even respecting her enough to tell her why he refused to speak to her or see her. Damn him for leading her on and making her think they could one day be a family and damn him for being  _ right _ about the witch and the curse but it was too late now. Dany wouldn’t force his hand. She wouldn’t trap him like that and make him believe he had no other choice. If he didn’t want to be with her, she wouldn’t have him out of obligation. She raised one child on her own. She could raise two. And if she could steal Aryanna away, she would have done that too. Silent sobs racked her body as she clutched the girl in her arms, sister to the babe now growing in her belly. What Dany wouldn’t give to just run away, the four of them, and leave cold Jon Snow to his brooding and his army of the dead and whatever reason he had pulled away from her in the first place.

“Aryanna I would give anything to have you as my daughter,” Dany whispered to her. “I love you so much.” Aryanna pulled away from her then, real tears running down her cheeks this time, not like her fake ones she had used earlier to get Dany here in the first place.

“But…?” she asked Dany, lip trembling. Dany looked up at Jon then, glaring daggers at him.  _ This is all your fault you fool, _ she thought.  _ Damn you Jon Snow, damn you! _ They could have been a family. She wanted it more than anything. The children wanted it. It seemed they had all thought it would happen. When, where, why did it all go so horribly wrong?

“All of you sit down,” Jon finally said in a choked voice. “Sit down son,” he said to Rhaego, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  _ Damn you, _ Dany thought again. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Aryanna sat in her lap, clutching her hands tight as if bracing herself, just as Dany was.  _ Oh gods, _ he was going to say he had another lover here at Winterfell, he was going to tell her he didn’t love her. Whatever the truth was it was awful, looking into his eyes, she just knew it.

“When we arrived here and Bran and Sam wished to speak to me, they told me something…it sounds completely mad,” he let out a dark chuckle as he said it.  _ Mad? _ What could be mad?

“What did they tell you King Jon?” Rhaego asked quietly. 

“They told me who my mother was,” he admitted and Dany gasped. On the ship to White Harbor Jon had told her one night that that was the one thing he always wished he knew. More than anything really. Sometimes he wanted to know it more than he wanted to know how to defeat the Night King. “And who my real father was.” Dany’s mouth dropped.  _ Real father? _ Dany’s eyes searched his for an answer. What was he talking about? He knew who his father was. He was the son of Ned Stark.

“Ned Stark…grandpapa Ned,” he looked to Aryanna, “is really my uncle.” Dany froze, limbs instantly numb. If Ned was his uncle, there was only one person who could be his mother. And only one person who could be his father. “Rhaegar Targaryen never kidnapped Lyanna Stark,” Jon continued and Dany’s heart pounded in her chest. “They ran away together and got married. And had me.”  _ You complete fool Jon Snow! _ Dany thought, suddenly furious again. Of all the ridiculous things…

“So…great aunt Lyanna,” Aryanna began, “is really my grandmama?” Jon nodded. 

“And my uncle Rhaegar is,  _ was _ …your father?” Rhaego clarified. Jon nodded again.

“So  _ you’re  _ a Targaryen?” Aryanna added. Again, Jon nodded. Aryanna slid out of Dany’s arms and stood, looking between her, Jon, and Rhaego. “So  _ I’m _ a Targaryen?” she asked, her tears all dry and a mischievous smile forming on her face. 

“Appears so,” Jon admitted, not seeming to know where his daughter was going with this but Dany did and reluctantly bit back a smile. 

“So  _ I’m _ blood of the dragon  _ and _ blood of the First Men!” Aryanna concluded. Rhaego’s mouth popped open. 

“Wait, that’s not fair!”

“I’m blood of the dragon, I’m blood of the dragon,” Aryanna chanted but when Rhaego lunged to grab her, Aryanna took off giggling madly and they both ran out of sight. Dany rolled her eyes at the pair of them wishing life were so simple for grown ups as it was for children. Jon fell to his knees before her grasping her hands in his. 

“I am so _ sorry _ I didn’t tell you sooner Dany,” he confessed, and Dany pursed her lips, wanting to hit him. “I didn’t think…I didn’t…want you to hate me.”

“You mean even more than I’ve been hating you since you refused to speak to me the last few weeks?” she shot back. “Is it because we’re kin?” she asked quietly, not quite meeting his gaze, not wanting to see the truth in his eyes. 

_ “No,” _ Jon breathed. “Dany my feelings for you haven’t changed. I swear it. I’m such an arse Dany, I didn’t know how to tell you.”  _ Didn’t. Know. How. To. Tell. Her? _

“You are an arse Jon Snow,” she choked, halfway between a laugh and a sob, her heart beginning to fill with relief. She finally looked up and he had a hesitant smile on his face as well. 

“I know I am.” Their thumbs rubbed each others hands softly, the children’s delighted shrieks and Ghosts playful barks coming from somewhere behind them. 

“It doesn’t bother you, really?” Dany asked again, wanting to know for sure. After all, it had been weeks since they arrived. Why had he gone so long without telling her if it really didn’t bother him?

Jon laughed. “Bran could have told me we were twins and I wouldn’t have cared one bit,” he got out making Dany’s smile widen. “I just didn’t want you to hate me. Bran started talking about  _ heir to the throne _ and all this political nonsense and I—”

“You utter arse Jon Snow,” Dany said again, a little more bite in her voice but still feeling immensely relieved nonetheless. He smiled sheepishly at her. “Do you really think politics and the bloody line of succession mean more to me than you or Aryanna?” she asked him honestly.  _ Did he think so little of her? _

“No,” he smiled. “And as far as I’m concerned, the heir to the Iron Throne is…” he turned around, eyes glancing through the trees near where they heard the children laughing and running. “Well, somewhere over there playing with his cousin.”  _ Cousin.  _ All this time they had been family without even knowing it. “I love you so much Dany and I hope you can forgive me,” Jon added, swiping at a tear on her cheek with his thumb. Dany nodded, more relieved than anything else, her mind wandering back to the babe growing in her belly and just when she would share  _ that _ with Jon. Perhaps another time though. It had been a long day as it was.

“I love you too. Even though you’re an arse,” she admitted. Jon gave her another completely disarming smile and nodded in agreement. Dany leaned in to kiss him, simply giddy at having his hands holding hers again, but for some reason, Jon leaned away, eyes staring down at his feet, his hands suddenly shaking. _Oh gods, what?_ _What could it possibly be now?_ Dany was just about to ask him, preparing herself for just about anything when Jon took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes finally darting up to meet hers. He looked… _nervous._

“Daenerys Targaryen,” Jon began, and Dany felt her body go completely numb again.  _ Oh Jon Snow…  _ “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written a scene that explained the Arya-Gendry relationship but it just wouldn't fit in this chapter, nor elsewhere in the fic. But yes, safe to say, everyone knows there's something going on between them, including Shireen, Rhaego, and Aryanna. Kids always seem to know things before grownups don't they?


	7. Age of Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Targaryen family grows. A celebration is held on Dragonstone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW sorry for the late post. Just got back from dinner and the movies lol :D

_A/N1: Guys I want to thank you so so much for showing so much love to this little fic. I had such a great time writing it and then sharing it with you all. I can't say thank you enough and I am so glad you all have enjoyed it as much as you have. Here is the final chapter!_

_ A/N2: This is an **actual** time jump so hope it’s not too disorienting. Since it’s a fluff piece, I didn’t feel the need to depict battles and such like in GSGW. We start off post War for the Dawn and post War for the Iron Throne. Night King and Cersei are defeated and we are on Dragonstone again. _

 

Dany let out a choked sob, feeling instant relief as Gilly plucked the babe from her womb, falling back against Jon and releasing her tight grip on his hands, utterly exhausted, but eager too. “Let me see him,” Dany breathed, holding out her arms for her child. 

“Not  _ him,” _  her husband told her in amusement. Dany’s heart skipped a beat.  _ A daughter. Another beautiful daughter. _ Gilly snipped the cord connecting them with a pair of sheers and wrapped the girl in a blanket, passing her to her parents. She was incredibly tiny, though Dany had figured she would be, and she was covered in blood and muck, but she was perfect all the same. Missandei handed her a warm wet cloth and Dany slowly and gently wiped off the girl’s face, revealing little beautiful details as she went. Thick, wispy pale curls with pale eyebrows to match. Dark eyes, likely going to prove to be grey like her father and big sister’s. A tensy upturned nose shaped much like her own, making Dany breathe a secret sigh of relief as Jon’s nose was a little on the large side. And lastly, beautiful full lips that Dany couldn’t tell if she had gotten them from her or from Jon…or perhaps it was just a Targaryen trait. Dany gave a half giggle-half sob. 

“She’s perfect,” she whispered thickly and she felt Jon nod behind her and heard him sniffle. Dany leaned down and gave her daughter a kiss on her little damp forehead, mesmerized by the pair of dark eyes that stared back at her. It was as if she had a million and two questions for Daenerys and Daenerys had a million and two back but instead of ask, they just gazed at one another in mutual awe. 

“Gilly,” Jon called quietly, cupping one arm around Dany’s to help support the baby in her arms. “Is it normal for them not to cry?” Dany smiled down at her daughter who was as calm as the spring day on which she had been born, and to Dany’s surprise, her daughter’s mouth widened, eyes alight with curiosity, in a return smile that made the tears stream quicker down Dany’s face. 

“I think she’s fine,” Gilly noted, settling fresh towels underneath Dany’s hips. “Likely just a few more minutes, your grace.”  _ Damnit. _ Dany had been so caught up in bonding with her daughter she had almost blissfully forgotten that she wasn’t done yet. She still had one more tiny human to bring into the world. 

“Do you want me to hold her so you can rest and prepare your grace?” Missandei asked gently, but Dany shook her head. She wasn’t ready to let her daughter out of her grasp just yet. The girl wiggled a hand out of her blanket and immediately gripped Dany’s index finger as if she too wasn’t ready to be taken away. 

Dany leaned down for another kiss, her daughter blinking several times, not used to the contact but not bothered by it either. Jon leaned in and kissed Dany’s temple and she could feel his face and beard damp with tears. He hadn’t been lucky enough to be there when Aryanna was born so he was adamant that he be with Dany when it happened. Dany wouldn’t have had it any other way, of course, despite what the rest of the lords and ladies there at court thought about it. She and Jon never were going to be the conventional monarchs everyone had grown accustomed to the last several centuries so Dany figured they best start getting used to it now. 

All too soon, Daenerys felt her belly begin to tighten again and with a single nod to Missandei, her daughter was out of her arms and suddenly wailing. “There’s our dragon princess,” Missandei chuckled, bouncing the girl up and down and she walked her over to Maester Pylos who was waiting to wash and examine her. Daenerys choked out a sob at the loss of her daughter in her arms, despite knowing it was of the utmost importance that she breathe steadily, and try her best not to get herself worked up over the pain, terrible and frightening as it was. With Rhaego she had been barely conscious and barely clinging to life so she hadn’t remembered or felt a thing. In retrospect this was obviously a much more ideal situation but the vivid lancing pain she felt was not.

“You can do this love,” Jon encouraged, letting her crush his hands again, his words slightly irking Dany but she didn’t say anything.  _ Of course _ she could do it. She had done it twice before and could do it one more time. She just would rather have sat there and enjoyed her beautiful smiling baby girl instead. But as her belly tightened yet again, Dany knew she had to clear her mind of everything and refocus. Forget about Jon, forget about Missandei, forget about her tiny baby girl, and just get the job done. 

Vaguely, as if from inside a glass box, she heard Gilly tell her to push so she did, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached though it was the least of her pains. Everything  _ ached _ but none of that was important right now. She lay her head back on Jon’s chest, eyes closed and  _ pushed _ with all her might, her mind going to Drogon, sitting astride him, the wind whipping her face and the spray of the sea as he ducked down to touch a wing to the waves, delighting in the coolness of the ocean. Only when Dany caught her breath to get ready to push again did she realize that Missandei had returned to her side and was with a silk fan in hand to help cool her face. Daenerys gave her a near delirious smile and chuckle and felt the babe slip lower down the birth canal.

“There you go, just laugh the baby out,” Jon told her making her give another giggle which quickly turned into a growl of pain as she felt the urge to push again. 

_ “Don’t make me laugh!”  _ Dany got out through gritted teeth, bearing down again, silently trying to communicate with her child,  _ you can do it, you can do it little one, mama wants to meet you so badly, just come out already! _

“Just a bit more, your grace, we’ve got a head,” Gilly informed her.  _ A head, a head!  _ She was at least a third of the way there! 

“Remember on the ship, our first morning,” Jon began in a low voice so only she could hear. “And we woke up and the children were in our room?”  _ Where is he going with this? _ “And Rhaego asked us why we were naked?”

Dany burst into a fit of giggles and grunts and the babe slipped right out of her and into Gilly’s waiting, well practiced arms. Jon started half laughing, half sobbing and Dany elbowed him in the ribs, half laughing, half sobbing herself. _ Sneaky bastard. _ Only when Missandei returned with her daughter, fresh and clean and squirming and Gilly lay her son -  _ her son! _ \- down on her chest did Dany realize it was all over and the half laughing turned to full on cries of joy.

“Well done love,” Jon told her quietly, holding their daughter next to her brother so they could admire them both.  Dany leaned against him and breathed a sigh of relief.  _ Finally. _

 

“Are you going to let them in yet?” Dany asked but Jon just shook his head, wanting one more private moment between just the two of them before he allowed their two eldest to come meet their new brother and sister. He walked over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and reached in the drawer, pulling out the ornate wooden box.

“I know I always complain about the lords of court,” he began as he settled next to Dany on the bed. “But sometimes they give proper advice.”

“And what did you need advice about my love?” Dany asked him with a smirk.

“Well I didn’t, but it was suggested to me that I get my loving wife something to thank her for giving me two more beautiful children.” Without another word, he handed a stunned Dany the jewelry box. Dany stared at the box with tears welling in her eyes.

“What is it?” she asked quietly, smiling up at him.

“Open it love,” Jon encouraged, his heartbeat quickening as he waited. Balancing Aemon, who had finished eating, on her knees, Dany lifted the lid of the box, the tears in her eyes instantly falling once she laid eyes on the necklace.

“How did you…?” she began but didn’t finish her question, letting the words trail off.

“I know some things,” he smirked knowingly, taking the necklace out of the box and securing it around her neck. The silver glinted prettily against her skin and Daenerys sniffled and rolled her eyes at his cheekiness. “Do you like it?” Jon asked, more than a little self conscious.

“I love it,” she told him quietly, letting her fingers caress the howling wolf wrapped inside a crescent moon. “It’s perfect.” She pulled him in for a lingering kiss. “Now go let our children in so they can meet their new brother and sister,” Dany laughed. Jon gave her one last kiss before crossing the room to their chamber doors.

As he opened it, three curious faces greeted him, two human and one canine, all of them with wide smiles on their faces. Jon grinned back. “Ready to meet your new brother and sister?” he asked and Aryanna and Rhaego nodded enthusiastically, Ghost wagging his tail just as excited. 

Dany balanced one babe on her knees while the other suckled at her breast and she nodded to Jon that it was okay to take the former, their raven curled little boy. “Come here, Aemon,” Jon cooed at his son who, aside from his eyes, looked just like him, Jon was proud to note. “Come here Rhaego, come hold your brother.” Rhaego and Aryanna climbed on the bed, Ghost jumping up with them though he settled down near the foot of the bed, patiently waiting his turn. Rhaego scooted between Jon and Dany and carefully cradled his little brother in his arms, looking a bit awestruck. 

“Why’re they so teeny?” Aryanna asked, lightly caressing Ella’s silver locks. 

“Well there were two of them in mama’s belly weren’t there?” Jon pointed out and Aryanna pursed her lips thoughtfully. 

“Does that hurt mama?” Aryanna asked nodding to Ella who popped off Dany’s breast at the sound of her sister’s voice. Dany straightened her night dress and cradled Ella on her shoulder to pat her back and help settle her stomach. 

“Not at all love,” Dany told her. “It’s a bit of a relief sometimes.” 

“May I hold her?” Aryanna asked politely and Dany smiled, settling Ella in Aryanna’s lap so she could look up at her new sister.

“How does it feel to be a big sister?” Dany asked her brushing ginger curls out of Aryanna’s face. 

“Scary,” Aryanna admitted and Dany and Jon chuckled but Rhaego agreed with her. 

“Why are you scared sweetling?” Dany asked her, scooting behind Aryanna to wrap her in her arms, and Jon noticed Aryanna give a small sigh of relief, making his heart skip. Though he didn’t love Dany simply because his daughter loved her as her mother, it was something that made him endlessly happy. His beautiful girls. His three beautiful girls. 

“Well, we’ll have to protect them won’t we?” Aryanna asked. 

“And we’ll have to teach them things,” Rhaego added, Aryanna nodding in agreement. 

“What’s the first thing you want to teach your new brother?” Jon asked yawning in sympathy as Aemon gave a little yawn in Rhaego’s arms. 

“Mmm, maybe how to crawl?”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Dany told him. “And maybe Ghost can help with that too.” Aryanna and Rhaego laughed and Ghost perked up at hearing his name. “Come here big brother,” Dany called to him and patted the bed beside her and Aryanna. Gingerly, as if knowing too much movement would disturb the babes, Ghost got up and rearranged himself so his head rested on Dany’s knee. 

“Ghost, meet Ella. Ella, this is your big brother Ghost,” Aryanna introduced and Dany caught Jon’s eye, pursing her lips to hide her wide smile. Ghost stretched his neck forward and sniffed Ella curiously, his tail slapping against the mattress. 

“Watch out,” Jon warned, “He might try to—” Before Jon could finish his words, Ghost gave a slobbery lick up Ella’s cheek, making his daughter scrunch up her little face in shock. Ghost looked up at Dany as if he were proud of himself and Aryanna used her sleeve to dab Ella’s face dry, but Ella still didn’t cry. “See that?” Jon pointed out, sliding down the bed a little and resting his head on Rhaego’s lap. “Calm, stoic Stark right there, just like her papa,” he nodded to Ella.

“You get that from Rhaegar,” Dany scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve heard your mother was a wild child, just like her granddaughter.” Aryanna grinned mischievously. 

“Perhaps,” Jon conceded yawning again.

“Why are  _ you _ tired?” Dany asked him accusingly. “You didn’t give birth twice yesterday!”

“No,” Jon agreed, closing his eyes. “But I did hold you while you did it and then I was up the rest of the night watchin’ over the three o’ you while you slept.” 

“You can take a nap papa,” Rhaego told him patting his hair. “It’s okay. I’ll look after them.” Jon snorted and heard Dany do the same.  _ Four children, _ Jon thought as his breathing became deeper, evening out. Never did he imagine he’d be a father at all, let alone to  _ four _ children. Another two and they’d have a full house, just as when he was growing up in Winterfell…

 

“When will they start papa?” Rhaego asked, holding his six month old brother in his arms who was gnawing on his fingers happily but Rhaego didn’t mind. 

“I dunno,” father told him. “Soon enough I hope. Bran doing alright?” he nodded to his brother in Rhaego’s arms. 

“He’s trying to eat me,” Rhaego jested and his father smiled. 

“But I don’t  _ like _ wearing dresses!” Ella was complaining to Aryanna and mother, who was holding little Daeron, as the four of them made their way up the steps of the arena, Sandor Clegane smirking as they passed him, his white cloak billowing behind him in the gentle summer breeze. 

“You sure she’s not your sister’s daughter?” Clegane asked father and Rhaego knew he was asking about aunt Arya. He smirked knowingly.

“Speaking of, have you seen them?” his mother asked the boys and Rhaego, father, and Aemon all shook their heads. But before they could wonder too long, aunt Arya’s shrill complaining reached their ears and she and uncle Gendry rounded the entrance at the bottom of the steps.

“I don’t need help!” aunt Arya swatted uncle Gendry’s hand away as she gripped the stone wall next to her to steady her steps. “I’m not an invalid!” Rhaego noticed Clegane bite his lip and turn away

“There, there dear sister,” his mother soothed her when aunt Arya sat down at her side. “It’ll all be over in two month’s time,” she reassured. 

“Should have him gelded,” aunt Arya grumbled and even though Rhaego knew she was kidding, he still crossed his legs automatically in sympathy. 

“What fun would that be?” uncle Gendry grinned and kissed her on the forehead, making aunt Arya narrow her eyes at him. Rhaego rolled his eyes in turn, glad his parents never acted like that in public.    

“Want to see cousin Shireen’s new invention?” father asked him quietly and Rhaego nodded, excited. Out of the satchel at his feet, father pulled out an odd looking device that consisted of two metal canisters with curved glass on each end and with a bridge in between to hold them together. “She calls them  _ binar-ocularys. _ Try them out.” Rhaego steadied Bran in one hand and took the  _ binar-ocularys _ in the other. “Hold them up to your eyes and look across the arena,” father instructed. Rhaego did as he was told and peered through the device, gasping in amazement. “Spectacular, aren’t they?” father asked him and Rhaego nodded, his mouth hanging agape. He could see clear to the other side of the arena as if the people there were sitting right in front of him. 

“Aunt Arya,” Rhaego called, holding out the  _ binar-ocularys, _ “Look through these near Glover’s banner. You can see Lord Robett picking his nose.” His mother shot him a dirty look but aunt Arya held her arm out for the device enthusiastically, chuckling as she peered through them and giving her rounded belly an affectionate rub. Noticing Rhaego’s actions had cheered aunt Arya, his mother rolled her eyes at him and shook her head with a smile. Uncle Gendry gave him a wink and rubbed Arya’s back, taking the  _ binar-ocularys _ from her to peer through the device where she pointed. 

“I wish aunty Sansa could be here,” Aryanna lamented and Aemon nodded. “When do you think she’ll be able to travel again mama?”

“Oh probably in a couple weeks,” mother informed her. “We’ve got to give her time to heal and to bond with your new cousin.” 

“When will we be able to travel back to Winterfell?” Rhaego asked curiously. “Surely they’ve finished rebuilding the castle by now.”

“They’re done with the first keep and the great hall and the smithy,” uncle Gendry told them. “But they’re still working on the armory and the stables and the maester’s tower.” Rhaego nodded. “Have you got word from Lord Eddison?” Gendry asked and his mother snickered.

“He wants us to fly up there and do it for him but I told him a dragon is not a slave,” she informed Gendry. “He’ll have to keep deconstructing The Wall by hand.” 

“I’m just glad it’s relatively quiet down in Storm’s End,” aunt Arya sighed, rubbing her big belly again. Father just shook his head in amusement. “Jon, where’s Ghost gone off to?” aunt Arya asked suddenly.

“He’s not a fan of the noise or the crowd so probably out on the cliffs or down at the beach,” he answered, scooping Daeron off mother’s lap and settling him in his own to bounce him on his knees. Daeron giggled and commanded father  _ faster horsey! _

When the crowd around them suddenly began cheering and clapping, Rhaego sat up straighter and peered down in the pit, seeing cousin Shireen and a few of the other maesters in training walk out to the platform in the center and wave. 

“With permission, your graces?” cousin Shireen called and mother and father stood and waved to those in attendance. 

“At your leisure,” mother permitted with a curtsy and cousin Shireen bowed to them, then proceeded to point to various boxes around the platform, dictating. 

“You think my brothers will like it?” Rhaego asked father but Aryanna chimed in.

“Of course they will silly. How could they not? They enjoyed the practice run last week.” Rhaego nodded, though still, he hoped they behaved themselves. There were usually not this many people on Dragonstone and the new arena had never even been formally used. 

He looked down to the platform of the arena as torches were lit and the group facilitating the spectacle waited for Shireen’s signal. After a moment of baited breath, Shireen clapped her hands together and each participant lit their respective fuses.

About thirty seconds later, the sound of synchronized blasts filled the air, making little Bran gape in awe. Another few moments more and the evening sky was filled brightly colored fireworks in all colors and sizes. Not long after, the fireworks were joined by their six dragons looping and dancing amongst the bursts of light, attracted to the area like scaly fireproof moths to flame. Everyone in the arena gasped in awe and Rhaego noticed even amongst the Silent Sisters, Lady Cersei seemed to be looking up at the display with a mixture of resentment and wonder. Then again, he remembered, she did love watching things burn, though unlike with the tragedy that befell King’s Landing, this involved no death or wildfire.  

Drogon and Rhaegal cried out in excitement and their fledglings followed. Rhaego noticed little Visenya floating almost lazily amongst the blasts but when she caught sight of him sitting in the crowd, dove straight for him. Several people in the crowd gasped in horror but she was no bigger than Ghost and could do no real harm. When she landed in front of him, Rhaego scratched under her chin and held little Bran out so he could give her a pat as well. With a final nuzzle of his outstretched hand, Visenya took to the air again, the youngest and smallest of the bunch but easily the most noticeable with her bright white wings streaked with gold.  

 

“Happy New Year,” Dany told Jon, unable to stop herself from leaning in to give her husband a lengthy and breathtaking kiss.

“Happy New Year,” Jon wished her in return, giving her that look that almost always ended nine months later with a fresh babe in her arms.  

“You’re incorrigible,” Dany chastised him lightly but leaned in to kiss him again all the same. 

“The year of the dragon, the common people are calling it,” Aryanna informed them, clearing her throat so her parents would stop leering at each other.

“Are they?” Dany asked, her stomach flipping a little at the news. 

_ “Age _ of the dragons, I’ve heard,” Rhaego added, bouncing Bran in his lap. Jon turned to her again, his eyes full of love and astonishment as the fireworks continued to explode up above and the dragons continued to dance in the sky amongst them.  _ Age of the dragons, _ Dany thought, lacing her fingers of one hand with her husband’s and touching her necklace from Jon with the other, an odd conversation, seemingly from another lifetime ago, coming back to her.  _ “He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi. That once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and it cracked from the heat. Out of it poured a thousand thousand dragons and they drank the sun’s fire. One day the other moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and the dragons will return.” _

Dany looked up in the sky at the fireworks and their dragons, then she looked down the stone bench, her husband and six children, watching the display in wonder. 

_ The age of the dragons indeed. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Children and their ages during the New Year celebration:
> 
> Bran Targaryen: 6mo
> 
> Daeron Targaryen: 2 years
> 
> Ella and Aemon Targaryen: 4 years
> 
> Aryanna Stark-Targaryen: 10 years
> 
> Rhaego Targaryen: 11 years
> 
> Oh yes and binoculars with a Valyrian-esq (instead of Greek) spelling. Meh.
> 
> Yes Shireen is training to be a maester. Yes women can be maesters now. And yes Arya is a grumpy pregnant lady. lol


End file.
